Pelican – The Fire in Our Throats Will Beckon the Thaw

3 out of 5

Produced by: Greg Norman, Pelican

Label: Hydra Head

This was a tough one.  On the one hand, you have some of Pelican’s deepest, most punishing tracks back-to-back: The evolving-to-chaos Autumn Into Summer and March to the Sea, which could have an alternate title of “March straight t hell, motherfucker.”  (Catchy, yes?)  Fire is also the most successfully thematic of any PLCN release to date, in that I get clear feeling of transition of tone between what I feel are the sections of the album, and though themes have been claimed by the group elsewhere, I never really hear them so much.

On the other hand… those back-to-back stalwarts become a comparison peak the following songs never re-achieve, and the theme, in its success, seems structured somewhat unfortunately for a riveting listening experience.  It’s an album that feels very purposeful, but with its point pursued perhaps to a fault.

(Warning: any and all analysis on my behalf – especially but not limited to what follows – bullshit.  You have been warned.)

The album title is indicative of the mood swing: From fire – expelled from throat, suggestive of shouting – to a thaw; melting ice.  The heat, which may start as a source of anger, provides warmth.  And the sequencing follows this flow as well, with the album halved, 3 songs to each half, by an untitled track, which happens to be distinct from the rest as the solely acoustic track.  One layer deeper to song titles, the opening three are more Earthly, grounded – references to nature, the sea, and approaching warmth – and the latter three more ethereal, spacey.  The album struggles with casting off the shackles of whatever is holding it down or back, and then launches into the stratosphere.  And sealing the deal, the music works with this setup as well, with half one much more chugga chugga aggro, and half two more at peace with itself, focusing on twinkling riffs uplifted by snares instead of pummeled by double-bass drums.

Sound awesome?  It is.  In part.  But that untitled pivot track, while more defined than the acoustic additions on Australasia, is rather unremarkable, when it should be acting as some type of bridge between the moods.  You finish up the defiant March Into the Sea and there’s simply no transition; untitled is like a placeholder for something more relevant.  Followup Red Ran Amber – going back to my analysis, the title is suggestive of, emotionally, that shift from anger to something sweeter, but more accurate to the actual song’s structure is the image of red diluted to a yellow, i.e. intensity washed out – wants to be a Red Sparowes work of pretty grandeur, but its loud / quiet / loud approach comes across as incredibly generic, nothing actually indicative of Pelican.  Thus shorting us the transcendent experience promised by the theme.  And for closers Aurora Borealis and Sirius, two relatively shorter, more focused tracks, while they’re both fine songs with interesting core riffs, they’ve already assumptively made that jump to space.  They’re not very moving or aggressive tracks.  So, again, concept achieved, but its like we skipped the important part of the hero’s journey and then touch base only after-the-fact, post-enlightenment.  Good story, told without urgency.

Thankfully, the part that is awesome is stunningly so; awesome as in worthy of awe; epic.  And sure, this is me favoring the metal-er side of Pelican, but the types of dynamics they work on in the latter tracks can have their place, and were certainly more fully realized on the following release, City of Echoes.  Here, the intense build-up of our first three tracks just outshines the rest.  Opener Last Day of Winter is perhaps the most typical in its approach, sounding rather similar to the first track on Australasia, but it appropriately sets the cold, sludgey mood and rocks hard in the right places.  Autumn Into Summer takes its time wandering about, seeking purchase amongst its various threads, but then grabs hold and just starts surging with passion, growing more and more confident in whatever it can be said to be expressing until it drops us off on the doorstep of March to the Sea, which takes the more expanded aural palette of Australasia and filters it back through the black ire of their debut EP.  It is absolutely the highlight of the disc, and befitting of the expanded treatment it got on a pre-released single.

Alas, as mentioned, it also then casts an oppressive shadow over what follows.

The interesting bit about listening to Fire is that, despite its structural flaws, it leaves a good impression.  I find it amusing that the Allmusic review can only apply somewhat generic positives about its style, settling on the opening track as a good example; indeed, without forcing yourself to listen in, its pretty easy to let the the riffs wash over you and carry you through to album’s end.  But this is in contrast to other Pelican experiences where the tunes your brain latches on to are sprinkled across the disc, and not squarely relegated to a half, or a song.  Traveling chronologically through their releases, Fire makes perfect sense as a transition from instrumental-metal of Australasia and EP to the more rounded instrumental, occasional metal of Echoes and beyond.  It also has some killer tracks.  But taken as a listen in isolation, it’s half a Pelican record, and half something more generic.