Gregory Robson
01/21/10, 05:22 AM
The Moon and Her Mother - The Moon and Her Mother
Record Label: Authentik Artists
Release Date: Feb. 9, 2010
Are surnames really that unpleasant? Sure seems that way with the abundance of pseudonyms in both indie and mainstream music. The latest on this proverbial laundry list is Chicago's The Moon and Her Mother, aka Aaron Wallace. A native Californian, Wallace moved to the Windy City to make a new start. His first creative foray since moving to Chicago is this 12-song LP, a bold and probing work of dense, moody radio-rock. The disc begins with the splashy and urgent "The Red Dove," and rattles off a succession of four aural juggernauts. "In Vacuum Tubes' is hypnotic and seductive, while "Strong City," tackles a bevy of pianos and blips, making for a swirly vortex of shimmering rock.
The disc's first impacting dent is the anthemic "Two Hundred Feet," in which Wallace cries out, "Shout it out my love." The slow-building and gradual crescendo of the horn-induced "The Last Catastrophe," is buttressed by a plinky piano as Wallace chimes, "I'm not who I say I am." Two songs later, the lush, orchestral cut "Numbers," throws out a poetic but askew refrain, "My ventricles are tenderly unwound, pushing wires through my mouth. Please protect my eyes from the light, infra rays shall swim through the winding." A lilting piano helps accentuate the song's Coldplay-like movement, but sadly represents one of the album's last significant entries.
The straightforward number "Televangelists," attempts singer-songwriter introspection but is too slow and plodding to ever muster any sense of accomplishment. Even on the lingering swirl of "Radio," Wallace starts to lose his luster. As if cognizant of this very fact, the disc rounds to a close with the deeply affecting "In the Space Between Atoms," which is one of only a handful of songs where every word uttered is carefully intoned and understood. A strong piano line and some ambient instrumentation help seal this song's successful fate.
And then, almost too predictably, The Moon and Her Mother ends with the ethereal "Pneuma," which swirls and swoops through a fog of ambient noises, loops and blips. The addition of female backing vocals and layers of piano signal the upwelling of a crescendo and gradually "Pneuma" rises to the pounding of drums, uplifting horns and a hopeful, gospel-like trajectory.
While it's incredibly unoriginal to take on a nom-de-plum, Wallace has actually crafted an album that matches his moniker. From start to finish, this 11-song collection is spacey, ambient and airy. That it is also personal, poignant and powerful makes it all the better. And while he is prone to mumbling and missteps, this is still a disc that should resound with a horde of new fans. The city of Chicago just might have something special on its hands.
1. The Red Dove
2. In Vacuum Tubes
3. Strong City
4. Two Hundred Feet
5. The Last Catastrophe
6. In Magazines
7. Numbers
8. Televangelists
9. Radio
10. In The Space Between Atoms
11. Pneuma
Radiohead, Oasis, Bryan Eich, Doves
Myspace (http://www.myspace.com/themoonandhermother)
Record Label: Authentik Artists
Release Date: Feb. 9, 2010
Are surnames really that unpleasant? Sure seems that way with the abundance of pseudonyms in both indie and mainstream music. The latest on this proverbial laundry list is Chicago's The Moon and Her Mother, aka Aaron Wallace. A native Californian, Wallace moved to the Windy City to make a new start. His first creative foray since moving to Chicago is this 12-song LP, a bold and probing work of dense, moody radio-rock. The disc begins with the splashy and urgent "The Red Dove," and rattles off a succession of four aural juggernauts. "In Vacuum Tubes' is hypnotic and seductive, while "Strong City," tackles a bevy of pianos and blips, making for a swirly vortex of shimmering rock.
The disc's first impacting dent is the anthemic "Two Hundred Feet," in which Wallace cries out, "Shout it out my love." The slow-building and gradual crescendo of the horn-induced "The Last Catastrophe," is buttressed by a plinky piano as Wallace chimes, "I'm not who I say I am." Two songs later, the lush, orchestral cut "Numbers," throws out a poetic but askew refrain, "My ventricles are tenderly unwound, pushing wires through my mouth. Please protect my eyes from the light, infra rays shall swim through the winding." A lilting piano helps accentuate the song's Coldplay-like movement, but sadly represents one of the album's last significant entries.
The straightforward number "Televangelists," attempts singer-songwriter introspection but is too slow and plodding to ever muster any sense of accomplishment. Even on the lingering swirl of "Radio," Wallace starts to lose his luster. As if cognizant of this very fact, the disc rounds to a close with the deeply affecting "In the Space Between Atoms," which is one of only a handful of songs where every word uttered is carefully intoned and understood. A strong piano line and some ambient instrumentation help seal this song's successful fate.
And then, almost too predictably, The Moon and Her Mother ends with the ethereal "Pneuma," which swirls and swoops through a fog of ambient noises, loops and blips. The addition of female backing vocals and layers of piano signal the upwelling of a crescendo and gradually "Pneuma" rises to the pounding of drums, uplifting horns and a hopeful, gospel-like trajectory.
While it's incredibly unoriginal to take on a nom-de-plum, Wallace has actually crafted an album that matches his moniker. From start to finish, this 11-song collection is spacey, ambient and airy. That it is also personal, poignant and powerful makes it all the better. And while he is prone to mumbling and missteps, this is still a disc that should resound with a horde of new fans. The city of Chicago just might have something special on its hands.
1. The Red Dove
2. In Vacuum Tubes
3. Strong City
4. Two Hundred Feet
5. The Last Catastrophe
6. In Magazines
7. Numbers
8. Televangelists
9. Radio
10. In The Space Between Atoms
11. Pneuma
Radiohead, Oasis, Bryan Eich, Doves
Myspace (http://www.myspace.com/themoonandhermother)