Review Summary: Ambient virgins, rejoice all you want. Wait until wisdom comes; you'll find there's much better.
Summertime in Illinois can be awful. Blistering hot one day and pouring with rain the next, it's a time of impromptu madness, controlled by nothing more than the beasts of the sky and meteorologists's guesses. Tornados fly left and right, precipitation dives to the pavement, plans become useless, and "April showers bring May flowers" seems so ironic. So, despite your plans to get smashed at parties, enjoy a nice walk here and there with friends, or perhaps go on that spontaneous road trip you'd always wanted to go on, but considered it "impractical" or "impossible," you might just be stuck inside your room for hours on end, bored beyond comprehension.
So as you try your hardest to lift yourself out of your melodramatic nonchalance, it probably only seems fitting to pop in Loscil, or rather, Scott Morgan's
Endless Falls. The light rat-a-tat-tat of raindrops, the unintrusive, but surprisingly vital melodies, and the concept behind the album being about rainy days only furthers its functionality as a cozy interpretation of sonorous strings and wah-wah reverberations. Luckily, these staples don't domineer Morgan's sound into a meandrous mass of boredom, as they did to 2006's
Plume. The wavering and gentle lulls aren't boring by any means; they prefer atmospheric shifts to layers of drones, but are hindered by recent inability to prevent simplistic concepts from turning sour.
Sure, it's attractive and pretty, but Morgan has built music off water before, oftentimes with much more impressive results than he has here. Of course, there's the obligatory tip-of-the-hat to Basinski and Eno via repetition, as Morgan's predecessors have made it standard fare. But his acceptance of this trait exemplifies the alarming "been-there-done-that" quality about
Endless Falls, making a relatively insignificant flaw a glaring misstep - that is, of course, if you're accustomed to the genre. For ambient virgins, ignorance is bliss, eh?
Regardless, Morgan is able to craft a few gems and phenomenal moments out of his obsession with liquid. Flaws aside, the album exudes charm and a glistening spirit by way of delicate orchestration and electronics that skitter along like children on a quay. And after a near hour of gentle chords and ambient tricks, Morgan reunites with fellow Destroyer bandmate Dan Bejar to explain how difficult the creative process truly is. Bejar talks about how he's now alienated from music in a plain, terse manner. He's then drowned out by raindrops, as though Morgan had enough of this bicker. It seems even more true when realizing how much heart Morgan has. Though generic,
Endless Falls is endearing, with a heart that pumps blood chock full of spunk and passion. And the fact that the album is book-ended with the tap-tap of rain only makes it more clear that Morgan's inviting you for more listens. He's eager for your return, and with the unpredictability of the weather, your next experience with
Endless Falls may be closer than you think.
