Review Summary: And you shall find that releasing five albums in one year is a crazy idea.
My favourite band as of couple of months ago have come forth with utmost ambitious plans of releasing up to five albums in 2017.It started off interestingly enough with Flying Microtonal Banana, which, while not a perfect album and definitely far from my favourite in their catalogue, was still quite an enjoyable little ride. Their second offering was Murder of the Universe, an overlong and disorganised psycho-megalomaniac tirade of ideas and obscure futuristic mumbles that at least had a bunch of tracks that were really interesting all throughout. But that album is without a doubt my least favourite in their discography. It's a weird collection of obtuse ambitious ideas that just won't work together that well, no matter how hard the band tried. And those two albums have raised my doubts about the band being able to actually pull off the five worthwhile albums stunt. And it seems that they still have a chance of coming through with two more albums that will blow me away, but the idea as it was is definitely left unfulfilled, because Sketches of Brunswick East is a peculiar and quirky, but nowhere near adventurous or exciting enough for me to be able to evoke an interest in coming back to it any time soon; individual songs maybe, but not the whole album, as it is a myriad of dizzying and fatigued directionless vignettes.
The album's title bears the word 'sketches' in it and that definitely explains the whole idea behind this creation. This is not exactly one fully fledged finished work, for which the band came together to craft and execute, it's a series of (apparently) semi-improvisational sketches that all share a certain musical idea and goofy atmosphere. Now, do not get me wrong, I did find a lot of the odd and off-the-wall moments to be utmost fun and enjoyable, but they are nowhere near as enthralling as pretty much anything King Gizzard have released up to this point; or rather up to Murder of the Universe. I could liken this album to Thee Oh Sees' last year's endeavour that was An Odd Entrances, an album of leftovers and unfinished vignettes that were cut out of the album preceding that, which was A Weird Exits. Sketches of Brunswick East is exactly like that. It's a myriad of directionless, underwritten oddities that sound like they could have fit on any of the King Gizzard "side-albums", albums they release to no great buzz, often after a release much bigger than that, be it Quarters or Oddments. Any of these could even serve a purpose of Flying Microtonal Banana B-Sides. It certainly checks out on the vibe and atmosphere front, and as far as my ear can tell (or register), there are some microtonal or microtonal-like sounds in the mix as well. And what is particularly disappointing about this album is that each track sounds like something the band actually wanted to put together, not like a strange clash of momentary ideas. Each track has a structure, a specific musical or instrumental peculiarity and above all a fun and joyful vibe that they so often implement in their music. Take that and mix it with the sheer instrumental scale they so often display as well and the more than usual whimsical dream-like atmosphere.
The first song is just a harmless intro that immediately tells you that what follows will be eons more light-hearted than Murder of the Universe and not as sharp or whacky as Flying Microtonal Banana. The track is soft and has a pleasant vibrant feeling. That carries on to the following tracks too. Starting with lightweight Countdown, whose melody-less lack of organisation is its primary charm. One would think that this could be the whole album's theme, a certain quirky and quite directionless oddity, but that is hard to pull off, and as we will see from the following tracks, even for King Gizzard. The following song, D-Day, is just like the intro, a short inoffensive endeavour with little to no actual memorable song writing, only pleasant instruments and an abrupt ending. That spirals into the next track and also one of the album's highlights, Tezeta. This song has the most memorable and also heart-warming melody filled with whimsy and bliss. Afterwards follows another minute-long sketch, Cranes, Planes, Migraines, that also has a nod of the previously so enlightening flute, but just like its sketch predecessors ends on nothing and flows into another track, The Spider and Me. On here, we get one of the clearest and most distinct hooks on the whole album, the song actually has a structure and a certain progression, even though it's the usual dreamy and oddball streak of instrumental bliss. Sketches of Brunswick East II is sort of the mother of all sketches on this album. It's certainly the longest one and the most clearly defined, one that actually has the ability to hold on its own. Afterwards there is a duet of songs, Dusk to Dawn on Lygon Street and The Book, both of which are instrumentally and compositionally dizzying, but neither holds up in the long run. Once they're done, you're done with them. A mild uplift brings the following two vignettes. For one, it's a vibrant and adventurous (at last) A Journey To (S)Hell, which feels exactly like a journey, something you endure upon and, whose conclusion is in the form of the track after that, which is Rolling Stoned (Side note: That is also the only state I imagine this album could be enjoyed all throughout). The bluesy You Can Be Your Silhouette is an intriguing change of pace. If only it was an actually decently written one as well, instead it just drags on in a one-dimensional and unimpressive tune that feels more like a strange detour than anything else. On the other hand, paradoxically enough, it is one of the most focused and straight-forward offerings on here. If only that could have been said about the absolutely insignificant and expendable closer, Sketches of Brunswick East III.
Folks, this is a messy album that, while having an interesting idea at its core, that is the semi-improvisational and somewhat whimsical same-themed tracks, falls flat on every aspect of it, delivering a bland performance one after another. I can hear that every single song has a fundament of a great track within it, but it is expanded beyond a simple potential on rare occasions. And I know it seems like I detest this record, but I don't. I am more disappointed in it than anything else. And disappointment leaves much more painful bites than a simple unimpressive output. I do prefer this album to, say, Murder of the Universe, at least because this is significantly shorter and doesn't have those goddamn interrupting monotone spoken-word outbursts. Nevertheless, as of right now, King Gizzard seem to have more ambition than sense and releasing five albums in one year is a little bit of overkill.
I love you, mates, but I don't love this.
Yummy tracks:
Tezeta, A Journey To (S)Hell, Rolling Stoned
