Review Summary: Year of the Ox
Serenade in Red is a unique work of significant magnitude, depth, and artistry – one which catapulted Oxbow toward new beginnings and ultimately cemented their status as avant-rock visionaries.
Oxbow are an extraordinary rock band. In fact, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say the quartet from San Francisco escape this limiting constraint with such unapologetic regularity that, at times, they barely fit the descriptor at all. Produced by noise rock deity and Big Black/Shellac frontman Steve Albini,
Serenade in Red retains the punk energy synonymous with these acts whilst also incorporating elements seldom heard within the wider genre, effortlessly infusing a highly volatile cocktail of noise-punk cacophony with seductive noir-tinged blues and vibrant bursts of free jazz.
Serenade... is Oxbow’s 4th LP and their first since 1995’s
Let Me Be A Woman – and what’s striking here is how the group successfully captured the intensity prevalent in previous releases, whilst developing a deeper understanding of restraint. With its overarching and distinctive ambience elevating their sound to new heights, it stands as a prime example of Oxbow’s commitment to their avant-garde tendencies; the record borrows from a myriad of influences and seamlessly incorporates them into their dark and ominous world.
There’s a “calm before the storm” post-rock-like dynamic here, but
Serenade rejects using blatantly obvious builds in favour of inventive and off-kilter song-structures – resembling something closer to a contemporary classical approach. Oxbow have succeeded in using space, timing, and patience to keep the listener off-balance; the result is wonderfully organic, alive, and enduringly satisfying. A prime example of this concept is album centrepiece “3 O’clock”, an 11-minute psychological behemoth permeated with a slowly creeping noir-ladened atmosphere. For every minute that
Serenade passes by without exploding into life, the anticipation intensifies, thus making its quieter moments significantly more impactful. La Luna showcases the contrasting, heavier side of their sound – channelling their hardcore influences alongside invigorating saxophone flourishes in an idiosyncratic manner typical of the band. Accompanying these passages are curious oddities such as spoken word poetry, cinematic interludes, and elements of musique concrete. This results in
Serenade sounding remarkably like a film soundtrack, conjuring up powerful imagery at every turn. Another vital component of the Californian’s sound is the enigmatic vocal approach unique to frontman Eugene. S Robinson; he utilises schizophrenic wails, barks, and grunts in a sporadic, deranged and almost incoherent manner, threatening to emerge from this madness only to be consumed by it once again. His wholly unpredictable, relentlessly eccentric, and sometimes downright unsettling performance is a boon to the tense, intriguing curiosity the group have created.
Having so many weapons at your disposal could prove detrimental in the hands of lesser marksmen, yet Oxbow harness their firepower with a quiet assuredness few can match.
Serenade’s seemingly haphazard collection of theoretically mismatched parts perform harmoniously, blending together so immaculately that it’s almost illusionary. Despite wielding more than enough musical tools to send anyone flying into attention-deficit oblivion, this is quintessentially anti-spork (i.e., not a messy hodgepodge of unrelated randomness – for the uninitiated). And for all the praise this writer has lavished upon them, perhaps that’s the greatest accolade of all?
