We vs. Death – A Black House, A Coloured Home (2008)

Von der Atmosphäre her irgendwo zwischen der urbanen Melancholie und Verschrobenheit von The Notwist, der Dringlichkeit von Karates „The Bed is in the Ocean“ und der kompositorischen Dichte von Mogwai erinnernd, haben sich die Niederländer We vs. Death mit „A Black House, A Coloured Home“ ein heimeliges und eigenwilliges Plätzchen Klangwelt geschaffen.

Der Opener „The Things You Did“ skizziert in seiner nahezu trist-traurigen Grundfarbe und mit seinen geschickt in den Post Rock integrierten Bläsern das Grundprinzip des gesamten Albums. Vielleicht liegt hier das einzige Problem der Platte, denn seine monochrome Ausstrahlung könnte von manchen als Monotonie gedeutet werden, obwohl das Album eine solche Einschätzung sicherlich nicht verdient. Erst auf der Mitte der Platte schafft das Quintett mit dem reduktiven Outro von „Mirage“ auch den Sprung in eine neue Klangfarbe. Überhaupt stellen sich solche Reduktionen im Folgenden unter anderem bei „Collection of Stones“ auch als die intensivsten und besten Momente von „A Black House, A Coloured Home“ heraus. Besonders an diesen Stellen berührt der nackte, flehende Gesang, der mich an den Post Country-Songwriter (sofern es so etwas gibt) Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson erinnert.

Wäre dieses Album ein Haus, ich käme gerne wieder und wieder, würde aber bei jedem Besuch immer nur ein Zimmer besuchen, allein um dessen Schönheit erfassen und würdigen zu können.

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With an atmosphere settled somewhere between the urban melancholy and weirdness of The Notwist, the instancy of Karate’s “The Bed is in the Ocean” and Mogwai’s compository density, the Dutch quintet “We vs. Death” created with their album “A Black House, A Coloured Home” a haimish but idiosyncratic peace of sound.

Tristness and sadness combined with a clever integrated wind section the opener “The Things You Did” clearly outlines the basic principles of the whole album. Maybe this is the only problem of the record, because, its monochrome vibe could be interpreted as monotony, which would be an undeserved rating for this record. It takes till the middle of the record, to create a new accent with the reductive outro of “Mirage”. In general, reductions of this kind evoke the best and most intense moments of “A Black House, a Coloured Home”. Especially at these parts, the naked, begging vocals, which remember me of the Post Country-Songwriter Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson, touch the listener at his heart.

If this record would be a house, I would like like to come again and again, but I would only visit one room per visit, only to be sure to capture and appreciate the whole range of its beauty.

Genre: Post Rock
256 kBit/s
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I'll Be Back

I’m off first thing tomorrow morning to Aberdeen, the sunshine coast, to appear at the Wordfringe Festival and then to spend a couple of days at my favourite spot. Cliff Cottage, where the words flow honeyed and exact and where the hospitality is legendary.

70,000 words down on the current work in progress and I’m in the home strait. So I will be concentrating on that for a few days. In fact I need to have a rest from this blogging malarkey. I really enjoy the chance to be a bit irreverent, but it diznae pay the mortgage.
This novel is based on fact and set on a prison colony during the middle of the last century. It’s a story of a young man who was sent to the worst prison on the planet. His crime? Being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

If I tell you any more, I’ll have to kill you. With a sharpened teaspoon. While you’re sleeping. You’ll just have to lie very still so I can get some purchase on your jugular. So maybe I’ll tie you up first. With barbed wire. So I might need to waken you up first. And I’ve just taken this too far, haven’t I?

So, thank you for reading my blogging efforts so far and for those who can be arsed commenting, thank you for your comments – I love receiving them, makes me feel less like I’m indulging in a literary form of masturbation. Writing is like sex, much better when there is more than one person involved. To those who don’t leave a message, this is me with my tongue sticking out blowing a raspberry.

I’m having a few days off. But dinnae worry, as the heavily muscled man with the face paint and the Austrian accent said, I’ll be back.
Michael

Ps. Weren’t Barcelona worthy winners tonight? Apart from the first ten minutes, Man Utd were barely in it. Iniesta and Zavi were awesome.

Ps. Watching the news with another apologetic MP tonight reminds me of the quote by Aristotle that says something along the lines of...the amount of shame the sinner feels is in line with the number of people who have become aware of the sin. (This isn’t the exact quote, but it’s close enough, ok?)

Ps. The saddest thing I’ve heard recently was Susan Boyle saying that she hopes she makes the final of BGT because that will show she is a worthwhile person. Bless. And shame on Lily whatsername, going for an easy target.

Right, that’s me done with ps’s. Honest. I mean it. For real. See ya.