Some releases seem mismatched for their chosen format. Others seem to transcend format to the point where only the content matters. A third group derives such benefit from the format itself that it's near impossible (or at least disappointing) to appreciate them when divorced from their intended delivery system. This release from Swedish project Dead Letters Spell Out Dead Words is solidly in the last category, with the warmth and crackle of the vinyl being an essential part of the mix. The tracklist suggests that one should play the 7" first, followed by the LP. Both size records play at 33rpm. And before even getting to the heart of review, it should be said that the vinyl is essential to the experience of this record. Listening to this one in digital formats won't give the same effect.
Playing this LP in the intended order reveals that Dead Letters have crafted an ambitious set of music which achieves its power in large part through narrative motion and flow from one piece to the next. The core elements are bass, synth, and guitar, though played in austere and repetitive ways, most typically looped into repeating figures. Electronic glitches, tonal washes, decaying delay signals, and gentle beats enter the mix throughout, and it's easy to think of Stefan Betke's work as Pole, though this is far less concerned with dub or dancefloor motives. But any passing familiarity with Betke's filtering process will recognize similarities here. Aesthetically, Dead Letters opt for somber austerity - it's quite a serious affair overall. But despite the potential of its bleak nature overwhelming everything, an inviting warmth seeps through most of the tracks that brings to mind Tim Hecker or Fennesz, even though the sounds here are much sparser. In fact, it's the ability to hold back and suggest melody rather than hit the listener directly with it that helps this recording stand out. The sonic clarity is aided by the immense amounts of space in the mix, yet this couldn't be termed ambient as there is always a rhthymic pulse, even if only a faint hint at times. The two tracks on the 7" are incredibly successful, pulling the listener in with a sense of mystery and calm. It serves as an intriguing and compelling invitation and teaser all at once. Its relative brevity shows just what this group are capable of and where they are going, so it's tough not to want more right away. And as a listener, the necessary pause to get up and switch the records allows for the lingering memory of the sounds to sink in. It also gives one the chance to relish the anticipation of the next step when the needle drops again. It's a trick that wouldn't work by many artists, but is pulled off deftly here.
The first side of the full-length starts with washes of sound that are more typically ambient, then shift to a haunting guitar line, bathed in reverb and delay. It's perhaps the prettiest moment of the whole set, and also the most memorable. By presenting the guitar figure in contrast to the hushed ambience that precedes it, the definition of the melodic contour stands out and is etched into memory. It's followed by two shorter more abstract tracks, and then we're onto the final side. Here's where things get interesting. I've complained before about ambient acts losing me when they lack any tension, any dissonance, any sense of palpable drama. The calming sounds of this sort of music are indeed beautiful, but all too often I find myself craving just a slight edge here and there. And on the second side of the 12", Dead Letters hit the pleasure zone squarely on the head. The narrative that was started on the 7" with lulling gltiches, bass lines, and melodically infused ambience turns to a darker place, giving the whole a much richer and fuller complexity. It's a superb turn of events, and shows that this group has mastered its ability to craft a compelling story from its sounds. The dissonance in the final sidelong track creeps in slowly with fuzz and feedback building at just the right pace. A distant beat and rhythm emerge about halfway through, along with a distinctly goth-infused synth line. Unfortunately, the second half of the track is a slight letdown. Rather than taking the building noise and crafting it into a beautiful squall, they opt instead for a morose repeated minor key motif that recalls the gothic grandeur of Pornography-era Cure. And while that's certainly high praise, it's all done in a manner that's just too facile, cliched, and obvious for a record that elsewhere is mysterious and intriguing. It's like an amazing and weird film that captivates up until the very end, and then finishes off with a hollywood ending. It doesn't make you like the movie any less, just wish it had ended differently. Luckily, there's 3.5 sides of amazing music here. And who knows, maybe the Cure ripoff will be perfectly executed in the eyes of other listeners. But either way, this criticism shouldn't hold anyone back from this excellent record. It's just a small misstep and easily forgiven when the rest is so strong.
(ED NOTE: CD edition is available from Killer Pimp) 8/10 --
Eric Hardiman (4 June, 2009)
