It can be hard to grab people's attention and hold it when it comes instrumental music. By its very nature has to exist outside of a pop structure which can make it difficult when it comes to attracting new fans. Music like this lives and dies on the power of the performances and how well the players can tell a story without using the human voice as a crutch. Those who have mastered this ornery style know how to draw you in, seduce you into their way of doing things, and leave you gasping for more. Those that cannot fall by the wayside and are quickly forgotten. Wellington's Into Orbit most definitely fall into the first category. Their debut album is called Caverns and it is one that will stay with you long after it has ended and receded back into silence.
The first thing that will strike you is
just how much volume and complexity is created by just two men.
That's right, Into Orbit are only a duo which seems borderline
impossible given the caliber of songs on this record. Paul Stewart
(guitar) and Ian Moir (drums) work in such seamless tandem that you
could swear there were at least twice that number of them, if not
more. What these two do on the album with so little at their disposal
is borderline black magic. This all seems to be very much in line
with the Into Orbit philosophy: maximum impact born from impeccable
chemistry.
We are treated to one hell of a racket
as soon as the album opens. The almost-title track 'Corridors…
Caverns' builds to a sweltering crescendo early on, just long enough
to inoculate you to the cacophonous assault, before dialing it right
back and enchanting you with its subtle magic. Fluid, layered guitar
lines interlace themselves through the staggering beat. The opening
notes of 'Set Adrift' are the herald of an approaching storm. Your
only option is to lie back and let them wash you out to sea. These
are the pieces that combine to form a beautiful noise: the sort that
makes you just want to lie back and allow to engulf you.
You can feel a sense of narrative at
work even if you have no chance of deciphering it. And just like the
best works of fiction, fragments of that narrative are scattered
throughout the record, appearing where you least expect to find them.
Motifs from earlier tracks peep their heads through the churning
haze. When you find yourself lost in the tidal drift at the end of
the untitled track when all of a sudden a guitar refrain from 'Set
Adrift' will resurface to pull you back into the maelstrom. Later on
the abusive post-punk energy of 'Towers' finds the band on a one-way
trip into the bowels of hell itself, recycling itself until it collapses entirely. Caverns is an album built
upon a series of these recurring cycles – a daring, fearless creation
that flies in the face of increasingly homogenization.
Instrumental music is extremely
divisive. Some people simply cannot get into it without a voice to
guide them through when to shout, when to dance, and when to let it
all hang out. Other love it for the very same reason. There is no
hand to lead you through this journey. Instead you are left to your
own devices to find your way to the exit of Caverns. Into
Orbit know this perfectly well and allow the listener to come to
their own conclusions in the face of such terrifying majesty. By the
time 'Creeping Vines' has tailed out you will left speechless,
gob-smacked, and hungry to return from whence you just came. That is
the magic of Into Orbit.
Rating: B+
Recommended tracks: Set Adrift, Towers
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