Scott Irvine
07/22/08, 09:18 PM
You.May.Die.In.The.Desert - Bears in the Yukon
Release Date: June 28th, 2008
Record Label: The Mylene Sheath
Who lives moments encapsulated in You.May.Die.In.The.Desert songs? Not I. Though I wish the glossy, sweater-weather shivers in "Oceanfloor Hijinks" would begin to serenade every time I stepped out of my apartment's elevator and in to the stuffy fifth floor hallway that always smells of moldy linens. Movie music, Bears in the Yukon to be my soundtrack. It's nothing you haven't heard before, but creativity is (really, come on) the least of your worries when fault comes in such dappled doses. The beauty of this record is only as patient as a hospital waiting room; etherized and ethereal when the moment calls for snaking crescendos and less interaction, panicked and desperate when the communication is fraught with intricacies and instrumental maleficence. "Post-rock" is a shortcut to "pretty", but the term is petty and quite a little slut. Look at YMDITD as music that feels right for when you're feeling right. Bears won't comfort, but it will put a rhythm to the passing cragged sidewalks out your car window or the city-glare off in the distance of your fifth-floor apartment's balcony.
However, this is not to say you'll be antsy to put the record on every time you're feeling less ready to listen to words and moreso ready to sit down with dissonant instrumentals. The album is actually fairly discomforting. The music forces you to follow along, it won't fade in the background -- which is not in the least a bad thing, unless this kind of stuff is only the jelly for your midnight reading session or internet-surfing marathon. It'll grit its teeth, though in the least threatening way like a fat Pug showing you its chompers when you get too close to its kibble: you might get bitten, but you'll only be tickled and reach again for another round of dodge-and-dance.
The instrumentation elicits some kind of imagery -- certainly scenery that is in someway always fucking wiggling around. "Monorails" shares with me a story of a retarded moose on its way for a drink by the stream; glazed textures and certain spots of soft, welcoming features being lapped up by intertwining spit-and-dribble that some might describe as "mathy". That's another thing, I hope none of you genre-frustrated morons on last.fm (that happen to read this) go near You.May's page and tag them as "math rock". This isn't Chavez, no one should be continuing a misconstrued off-stage antic. I'll let it slide with Don Caballero because there are times when I pull out a calculator to add up how many times Ian Williams gets me in the mood, then subtract from that the amount of respect I lost for the band after World Class Listening Problem. Again, it is not math-rock, it is just angularly crafted.
There's a certain electronic element to the band, as well. Not to the extent that 65Days, or even Pele, took it, but it's evident. Whether in ambiance ("Interlude") or a quick and metallic opening courtesy of a drum machine ("The Writer's Audience Is Always Fiction"), it serves small purposes and may not even be paid attention to. It's certainly the most subtle thing You.May has going for them. Seattle has bred confrontational bands in the past (except for what Beat Happening introduced) and it has certainly soaked in to this trio's loins. The completely uninformed will deem them similar to Explosions in the Sky or some such banner for the sound, but don't be misled. Explosions fans can get in to it, but may find themselves getting more involved with the music, more in friction with it. This is music for staring at ceilings, as well as for tearing them down.
Oh, and is it noteworthy that this issue of the album comes with a remix? Thought not.
Caspian, Unwed Sailor, Foxhole
You.May @ Myspace (http://www.myspace.com/youmaydieinthedesert)
Buy It Here: http://ax.phobos.apple.com.edgesuite.net/images/badgeitunes61x15dark.gif (http://click.linksynergy.com/fs-bin/stat?id=Wg3EKqkEApA&offerid=146261&type=3&subid=0&tmpid=1826&RD_PARM1=http%253A%252F%252Fphobos. apple.com%252FWebObjects%252FMZStor e.woa%252Fwa%252FviewAlbum%253Fi%25 3D280934519%2526id%253D280934499%25 26s%253D143441%2526partnerId%253D30 )
Release Date: June 28th, 2008
Record Label: The Mylene Sheath
Who lives moments encapsulated in You.May.Die.In.The.Desert songs? Not I. Though I wish the glossy, sweater-weather shivers in "Oceanfloor Hijinks" would begin to serenade every time I stepped out of my apartment's elevator and in to the stuffy fifth floor hallway that always smells of moldy linens. Movie music, Bears in the Yukon to be my soundtrack. It's nothing you haven't heard before, but creativity is (really, come on) the least of your worries when fault comes in such dappled doses. The beauty of this record is only as patient as a hospital waiting room; etherized and ethereal when the moment calls for snaking crescendos and less interaction, panicked and desperate when the communication is fraught with intricacies and instrumental maleficence. "Post-rock" is a shortcut to "pretty", but the term is petty and quite a little slut. Look at YMDITD as music that feels right for when you're feeling right. Bears won't comfort, but it will put a rhythm to the passing cragged sidewalks out your car window or the city-glare off in the distance of your fifth-floor apartment's balcony.
However, this is not to say you'll be antsy to put the record on every time you're feeling less ready to listen to words and moreso ready to sit down with dissonant instrumentals. The album is actually fairly discomforting. The music forces you to follow along, it won't fade in the background -- which is not in the least a bad thing, unless this kind of stuff is only the jelly for your midnight reading session or internet-surfing marathon. It'll grit its teeth, though in the least threatening way like a fat Pug showing you its chompers when you get too close to its kibble: you might get bitten, but you'll only be tickled and reach again for another round of dodge-and-dance.
The instrumentation elicits some kind of imagery -- certainly scenery that is in someway always fucking wiggling around. "Monorails" shares with me a story of a retarded moose on its way for a drink by the stream; glazed textures and certain spots of soft, welcoming features being lapped up by intertwining spit-and-dribble that some might describe as "mathy". That's another thing, I hope none of you genre-frustrated morons on last.fm (that happen to read this) go near You.May's page and tag them as "math rock". This isn't Chavez, no one should be continuing a misconstrued off-stage antic. I'll let it slide with Don Caballero because there are times when I pull out a calculator to add up how many times Ian Williams gets me in the mood, then subtract from that the amount of respect I lost for the band after World Class Listening Problem. Again, it is not math-rock, it is just angularly crafted.
There's a certain electronic element to the band, as well. Not to the extent that 65Days, or even Pele, took it, but it's evident. Whether in ambiance ("Interlude") or a quick and metallic opening courtesy of a drum machine ("The Writer's Audience Is Always Fiction"), it serves small purposes and may not even be paid attention to. It's certainly the most subtle thing You.May has going for them. Seattle has bred confrontational bands in the past (except for what Beat Happening introduced) and it has certainly soaked in to this trio's loins. The completely uninformed will deem them similar to Explosions in the Sky or some such banner for the sound, but don't be misled. Explosions fans can get in to it, but may find themselves getting more involved with the music, more in friction with it. This is music for staring at ceilings, as well as for tearing them down.
Oh, and is it noteworthy that this issue of the album comes with a remix? Thought not.
Caspian, Unwed Sailor, Foxhole
You.May @ Myspace (http://www.myspace.com/youmaydieinthedesert)
Buy It Here: http://ax.phobos.apple.com.edgesuite.net/images/badgeitunes61x15dark.gif (http://click.linksynergy.com/fs-bin/stat?id=Wg3EKqkEApA&offerid=146261&type=3&subid=0&tmpid=1826&RD_PARM1=http%253A%252F%252Fphobos. apple.com%252FWebObjects%252FMZStor e.woa%252Fwa%252FviewAlbum%253Fi%25 3D280934519%2526id%253D280934499%25 26s%253D143441%2526partnerId%253D30 )