When I first got into the label, I was intrigued to see a band I’d considered something of a heavyweight in the noise scene – Flying Saucer Attack – in their roster. As purveyors of what was rightfully deemed ‘rural psychedelia’ a couple releases after this one, FSA had also crossed the gap to release on some higher profile labels. And – I should add – I didn’t know much about them beyond snippets and clout. So after falling for everything Matthew Bower and growing to appreciate the extended bliss-fest of Pelt, up through digging on Rake’s sloppy punk folk and Jack Rose’s wondrous acoustic work, I came back around to those VHF-era FSA works with curiosity: How would this slot in to the label’s offerings?
And it’s a little bit of this, a little bit of that, and ultimately that mix and match hinders the album.
A couple of songs go the wall of noise route, with a particular standout opener My Dreaming Hill. Getting pelted by the layers and layers of guitar and keys, barely able to discern the juxtaposingly peaceful vocals, is a glorious effect, hazed into mesmeric pleasure. It’s a grand 6-minute or so intro.
Unfortunately, we descend into the grab bag thereafter. While A Silent Tide (track 2), Make Me Dream (4), and Wish (5) would seem to repeat the formula of the opener, they’re slightly more formal, drifting in and out of the noise with a clatter of shittily recorded drums (don’t get me wrong – they sound perfect in context) or, on what could’ve been an album centerpiece, a gigantic squall of guitar on Wish. In theory this all works together, but it’s cake and eat it too; it’s difficult to get conditioned to which style of noise you’re listening to. Interspersed with the minimal drone of Moonset, track 3 – sort of the only boring track on the disc – confuses matters all the more.
The back half of the album kicks into gear, though. Both Popul Vuh tracks are extended experiments in feedback, noise, and drone, the first one being a particularly effective standout. Breaking these tracks up with a noisy-ass cover of Suede’s The Drowners is a smart change-up this time, as the stylistic divide is clear. The album wraps with the slow and (relatively) quiet The Season is Ours, both a solid way to close the show as well as an effective lead back in to track 1, should you go that route.
FSA’s all-hands-in approach to noise produces a slew of fantastic moments, but is too varying to create a seamless album lists. A smattering of stellar tracks and a solid latter half of the disc makes their self-titled debut a worthwhile listen, though, especially if you’re a fan of the band.
vaguely-offensive 