First of all, thank you so much to Doug for showing me Gláss, that‘ s why we do the Plugs of the Day at the beginning of our interviews, a chance to shine a bit of light on those bands that deserve a bit more attention. And now onto a review for the self-titled Gláss record, a labyrinth for those who are willing not to be found and not to escape.
Talking Heads – a band most “punkers” never appreciated because of their artsy-character and that most “proggers” always disliked for their roots. However, a band that might have been a link between very different worlds and very different attitudes. For some strange reason, yours truly immediately thought of David Byrne and his bandmates when listening to Gláss for the first time because of the sheer audacity of really saying “everything goes”.
When the opener ”Off Ramp” and its very regular, normal drum pattern kick off the record we do not expect the notion that a few moments later the guitar provides some irregular, repetitive, somehow Sonic Youth-ish picking; then we hear a voice that sounds much more like a laconic Scotsmen give us words that make no sense at all. It sounds like a Noise-Rock version of Glasvegas, if anyone remembers them. The hypnotic pull of this opener only intensifies over the course of its near 400 seconds.
The band from South Carolina (or is it Georgia) definitely doesn’t have anything “Southern” about them but sound like a mid-90s Chicago band set for disrupting one’s understanding of music in the sense of not giving us patterns that work together. Take the second track ”Cheater Bar” as an example: Drippling guitar motifs team up with some dissonant ones (in the sense of being not in harmony) while the bass line is steadily pumping lead into veins and lungs and then all of a sudden the thing erupts out of nowhere. Strong hits on the cymbals, the guitars fighting each other like rabid dogs – and then everything collapses and slows down (but only a bit), it has the feeling of a sedated rhino running at you without itself noticing that it has been hit.
Before anyone mistakes my gibberish for a description of Math-Core – Gláss is surely not about that. This is what some modern inventors of Indie Rock might sound like – thing of bands like Arcade Fire with less opulence or Pygmy Lush with less folk. Interestingly Bandcamp suggests bands like Convulsing. or Jute Gyte. Strange comps but for this band any comp is strange and adequate, just like the idea of what genre this is: Rock? Funk? Avantgarde? The only notion I could come up would be Art Indie. Or Prog-Folk. But hey, I am trying to weasel my way out of this review. Not now.
Why should anyone listen to a record comprising 16 tracks and nearly 90 minutes music? One that obviously doesn’t associate with any given genre? That will challenge you for your time? Dragging you deeper and deeper into their less-amplified Folk gospels? With short “songs” of 20 seconds and the final two tracks nearly 25 minutes combined?
I do not know why. I really don’t. Fact is, I have been coming back to this record for near two months now. I have dug into the band’s discography. Confused over the question when these tracks were recorded, where they were released. Trying to understand it. Not trying to. But I come back. And back. Again. Listen for yourself. And maybe tell Doug thank you. Or not. Gláss are great. Happy Days. With an Endgame. While attending. Get it? Tell me how and why. No, don’t.
