Review Summary: I can get down with this
Most of us like to discover things. New or obscure bands, new or obscure directors, new or obscure artists, new or obscure IPs. It's rare anyone actually finds a brand new band that they can call their own, a band that has the style and substance of those peers who've achieved more traditional respect and fame; in a way, finding such a band is akin to searching for the Holy Grail. I could tell you about a local ‘djent’ band largely formed out of high-school students, or a local ‘folk’ singer songwriter couple, but their music lacks any true sense of identity or originality. They're not interesting, or unique, or in the former’s case good. Often bands like this have technical prowess but no true soul of their own. Once in awhile, bedroom projects turn into indie sweethearts, but we, the majority of music listening community, often miss the entry mark for 'I hit play first'. We can't all be Ray Jay when it comes to our favorite acts.
That sense of discovery, however, is often a huge driving force for exploring music outside of the average parameters. Jumping straight into the rabbit hole of homegrown acts, antiquated hidden treasures, up-and-coming Internet sensations, and intimate mini projects can often be exhilarating and trying, and at many times both in equal measure. It's the self-discovery and magnanimity that propels individuals through the schlock and the abysmal outputs, and it's finding a new favorite that legitimizes this thinking and enables continued exploration. Even if you aren't the harbinger of the next big-little thing, you may very well find a new favorite, or a springboard into even more kindred music.
In 2012, a relatively little known Brooklyn-based band named Beacon released the No Body EP. Approximately sixteen minutes long, spread across four songs, its composition involves relatively straightforward song progression and immediately chilly instrumentation through brevity like you wouldn't believe. Indeed, this works for and against the album; no bloating or excess comes about, but it hardly ever feels like enough to sink your teeth into.
No Body is definitely a morsel worth sinking your teeth into, however, even if you end up biting your tongue. Hell, the blood is probably appropriate considering how somber the instrumentation and vocals get. 'Girl in a Coma' might be the most obvious example of the atmosphere and emotions on display here: simple, effective, R&B tinged vocals, both tender and distant; simple, effective lyricism that displays longing believably and tryingly; simple, effective instrumentation that distances and embraces all at once. With unobtrusive beats, icy synths, sub-bass a la the best of post-dubstep, and just the right level of samples and miscellaneous touches to layer and texture songs, Beacon crafts sonic landscapes that never reinvent the wheel but always seem absolute in their intent. Clicks and chirps are never noise; they're an integral part of the atmosphere. Beacon may not be a duo of songsmiths in the greatest tradition, but their command of evocation is definitely developed.
It's hardly a perfect song selection, and indeed it might be a hard recommend. Songs tend not to flow into one another seamlessly, despite the implied intent of cohesion. Nothing on the album seems truly fleshed to where it needs to be. 'Exhale' is a good example of this. It just ends. No closure or progression into the next song, just a straight, kind of jarring stop. What remains in the album are concepts stretched into song form, subtle experimentation, and a professional distance that keeps from true connection. The soft, emotive vocals are indeed effective and appropriate, but whether or not the lyrics work for you in their simplicity is fairly subjective.
And that's okay. This wasn't intended for all audiences. Instead it feels like a small side project, a bit of catharsis for those involved, and this works. All together, for sixteen minutes and four songs, you get a good bang for your buck. It was a bright spot in my search for new things, a 'beacon' of light amongst the often-droll excesses of artists.
And should I ever make such a bad pun again, I hope you all strike me where I stand.
