2 out of 5
Label: Expert Work Records, Vina Records
Produced by: Jonathan Kreinik and Abe Seiferth
We Contain Multitudes’ second album, Say Nothing, was actually recorded in 2017, well before their debut record in 2023. Initially recorded, at least: the group would rework and revisit the material several times over, providing for this distinctly descriptive line in the credits: “recorded and otherwise worked on by Jonathan Kreinik and Abe Seiferth in 2017, 2018, 2019, 2023.” Now, I am not a songwriter; I recognize this is not the first work that’s taken multiple iterations to come to fruition. However, it feels like there’s something to it this time; or, cleverly referencing the eponymous title track, there’s something to the process that makes the record feel like there’s not something there: the atmosphere that made the group’s focus on mood and repetition that made Minako such a noteworthy record. And though not a songwriter, I do write, and know a little something about the creative process in that regard, tinkering with a story over the years. At the very best, I realize it has become a whole new story, maybe encouraging a revitalized rewrite along those new lines; but sometimes, the constant fiddling is to get to some ideal version that doesn’t exist, and in trying to find it, I’ve cut away the distinctive things that drove the narrative in the first place.
Yes, I’m pitching that something like the latter happened here.
Say Nothing is not stylistically far from Minako by any means, employing the same shuffling machine-like krautrock as before, tickling at breakout moments that never arrive. However, instead of sustaining that balance in a disarming fashion – as the lack of showmanship isn’t the norm in this genre of instrumental rock – Say Nothing tips that balance towards accessibility. So it’s not, like, bravado, but we do get a kind of pop-song like equivalence: elevator music familiarity where the tunes turn a corner exactly when expected, with the mix / production creating very little sense of depth. A Camaro’s riffage will get some heads bobbing; Good Question dials up the drums quite a bit, and leans into their looseness in a way that gives the song and group a true sense of life, making that track the highlight. However, none of the four songs, despite averaging to about 8 minutes, feel like they accomplish very much – like they say very much – during that runtime.
I’m glad WCM found a home for this material that’d been kicking around in their backlog. In that sense, I applaud putting out that long-fussed-over project – though primarily because it allows you to move on. There will absolutely be fans who totally get down with Say Nothing’s arm-wide-open style, and thus likely hear nuance where I don’t. I will pass through here, occasionally, on my way back to Minako.