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Needless to say, Crescent are a very, very, very acquired taste.
Little Waves will definitely not make big waves on the general music
scene. It’s the kind of album that begs the question - Why bother?
This drab, sombre, melancholic and sparse affair beggar’s belief. If this
outfit think they’re going to make some kind of impact, they need to seriously
think again. With a predominatly drone-like quality, that doesn’t break out of
a snail’s pace, these weird wanderings seem to serve no purpose other than gratifying
self-indulgence.
Boredom sets in quite quickly. From the start actaully. Matt Jones’ sort of (hushed)
singing does little to help matters. Clearly the ensemble of musicians are very
competent, but the music (question mark) has little if any direction, few dynamics,
power, or, even relevance to the casual listener.
By definition, it’s hard to find redeeming qualities. There are the odd, odd
ones. Title track Little Waves ebbs and flows aimlessly with the odd bit
of F/X to make it interesting. Cup, has a Micha P. Hinson-like Americana
ambience: huge hollow acoustic guitar and ghosting electric guitar.
Nearly Ready, a dire track, has some edgy brass sequences that lift the
downcast mood a tad. Don’t ask me to describe waste of space Geese, but
thankfully Hey, September has some nice moments, particularly the guitar
work.
Quirky Drift (F/X included) sees Jones actually trying to sing, amongst
the staccato beats, which are quite explosive at the mid-point, making it the
most interesting of the bunch. Cacophonous Birds Came... isn’t worth a
mention.
As if things couldn’t get worse, Little Waves meanders out with a damp squib –
Our River, with Jones’s most weird take on singing.
1. Little Waves
2. Cup
3. Nearly Ready
4. Geese
5. Hey, September
6. Come Into The Shade
7. Drift
8. Birds Came Out Of The Trumpet
9. Before
10. Our River
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Review & concert pics copyright © Elly Roberts, 2004-2010.