Blake Solomon
04/21/09, 06:52 PM
Oceans – Nothing Collapses
Record Label: Copper Lung Records
Release Date: March 24, 2009
Windy days are a chore. Struggling around town, swaying from left to right, means passersby are thinking but one thing: “A bit early for a drink, huh?” For those of us with wiry (skeletal) frames and aversions to general balance, it’s just plain unfair. Why should we be made to look like fools when the rest of the world can, you know, walk normally? In music this surprising lack of balance creates vastly different outcomes. Moving from a brooding track to a light peppering of spring-like carelessness is not so much ADD as it is explorative. At times, working in abruptly diagonal lines exhausts. Surprises within a surprise can quickly cause listeners to turn an LP into an EP. And then again, this method of incisive movements may also result in a musical experience that’s about discovering trapdoors in an effort to create the most detailed blueprint. This happy conclusion is where we find Oceans and their world-spinning debut, Nothing Collapses.
For those of you who made it past my sorry attempt at “upper-level thinking”, I reward you by forcefully pushing further cerebral imaginings far, far away. This always happens with instrumental music; I sit back, relax, and before I know it, the moon’s out and my legs have atrophied. Although with Oceans, a constant slew of changing dynamics forces one to stand up straight. Much like the ebb and flow of its creator's nom de plume, Nothing Collapses moves from reflective moments to technical applications of force and noise. “We Are Ruins”, for example, could be twelve minutes instead of six. Such an extension would allow Oceans to realize just how crescendo-y its crescendos can be.
And then, after the expected post-rock zig-zaggaing of loud-to-soft-to-Really-Loud, Oceans throws a curveball for the ages. (Or something dramatic like that.) As “Boy Detective” warbles happily in the upper register, things are nice but not as dynamic as I’d have you believe. Well, until the vocals enter. It’s more about camaraderie than singing, as the voices only shout and scream. Here it’s simplicity upon simplicity: “Hey, starry eyes / Don’t forget to keep smiling /…/ But don’t forget about me.” Reverb-ridden guitars finally fade away to reveal another vocal Easter Egg, and it’s one we all know well: “I’m not coming home / I’m never coming home!”
As songs like “Sound Of Static” and “City At Peace” continue the mesmerizing journey through every volume conceivable, Nothing Collapses gallops towards its finale. As you’d expect, "Your Plane Leaves Tomorrow" is long, intense and youth-fueled. The only other track with vocals, we are treated to the succinct smartness of, “One day / You’ll wake up / In a strange place.” Featuring more gigantic climaxes than ever before, this song uses Luis Belorin’s oft-overshadowed violin to stand out above the hammering guitars and crashing cymbals. It’s a culmination of Oceans’ unquenchable thirst to shock its audience. For an instrumental album to end with hastily shouted lyrics, the band must be immovably sure of itself. Oceans is clearly that kind of band, and Nothing Collapses is certainly that kind of album.
Recommended If You Like: Daturah, Lymbyc System, leather chairs, Gifts From Enola, lit fireplaces
www.myspace.com/broceans
Record Label: Copper Lung Records
Release Date: March 24, 2009
Windy days are a chore. Struggling around town, swaying from left to right, means passersby are thinking but one thing: “A bit early for a drink, huh?” For those of us with wiry (skeletal) frames and aversions to general balance, it’s just plain unfair. Why should we be made to look like fools when the rest of the world can, you know, walk normally? In music this surprising lack of balance creates vastly different outcomes. Moving from a brooding track to a light peppering of spring-like carelessness is not so much ADD as it is explorative. At times, working in abruptly diagonal lines exhausts. Surprises within a surprise can quickly cause listeners to turn an LP into an EP. And then again, this method of incisive movements may also result in a musical experience that’s about discovering trapdoors in an effort to create the most detailed blueprint. This happy conclusion is where we find Oceans and their world-spinning debut, Nothing Collapses.
For those of you who made it past my sorry attempt at “upper-level thinking”, I reward you by forcefully pushing further cerebral imaginings far, far away. This always happens with instrumental music; I sit back, relax, and before I know it, the moon’s out and my legs have atrophied. Although with Oceans, a constant slew of changing dynamics forces one to stand up straight. Much like the ebb and flow of its creator's nom de plume, Nothing Collapses moves from reflective moments to technical applications of force and noise. “We Are Ruins”, for example, could be twelve minutes instead of six. Such an extension would allow Oceans to realize just how crescendo-y its crescendos can be.
And then, after the expected post-rock zig-zaggaing of loud-to-soft-to-Really-Loud, Oceans throws a curveball for the ages. (Or something dramatic like that.) As “Boy Detective” warbles happily in the upper register, things are nice but not as dynamic as I’d have you believe. Well, until the vocals enter. It’s more about camaraderie than singing, as the voices only shout and scream. Here it’s simplicity upon simplicity: “Hey, starry eyes / Don’t forget to keep smiling /…/ But don’t forget about me.” Reverb-ridden guitars finally fade away to reveal another vocal Easter Egg, and it’s one we all know well: “I’m not coming home / I’m never coming home!”
As songs like “Sound Of Static” and “City At Peace” continue the mesmerizing journey through every volume conceivable, Nothing Collapses gallops towards its finale. As you’d expect, "Your Plane Leaves Tomorrow" is long, intense and youth-fueled. The only other track with vocals, we are treated to the succinct smartness of, “One day / You’ll wake up / In a strange place.” Featuring more gigantic climaxes than ever before, this song uses Luis Belorin’s oft-overshadowed violin to stand out above the hammering guitars and crashing cymbals. It’s a culmination of Oceans’ unquenchable thirst to shock its audience. For an instrumental album to end with hastily shouted lyrics, the band must be immovably sure of itself. Oceans is clearly that kind of band, and Nothing Collapses is certainly that kind of album.
Recommended If You Like: Daturah, Lymbyc System, leather chairs, Gifts From Enola, lit fireplaces
www.myspace.com/broceans