(10.03.05) Immediately upon receipt of The Campfire Headphase, Boards of Canada’s latest opus, I got right to work. The iPod was loaded, groceries procured, my day job became a necessary evil. The soundtrack to those first few days was a steady stream of blips and arpeggiated swells, mixed with occasional filter tricks that threatened to distract me as I went about my daily routine. This review presents an account of an album that has a place in everyone’s collection alongside classics such as Pink Floyd’s Animals, or Bowie’s Hunky Dory – a work dealing with intrinsically familiar ideas and emotions in a wholly alien manner.
From Method to Means to Ends
Early in the listening process, I formulated a sort of vision of the duo at work, in which I saw them through an early morning haze making sounds via methods that can’t quite be articulated, a kind of stony process requiring more intuition than knowledge, where chords are correctly placed but aren’t quite chords, and the importance of formal training is elided by sheer talent and virtuosity.
There is clearly a progression thematically on this album, skewed slightly from the scenes of idyllic country peace we saw on earlier works. Simply stated, it sounds as though a giant unidentified flying craft crash-landed in scenic Scotland, near the Music70 studios, and the results of that event are documented herein. Synthetic sounds and complex programmed flourishes replace children’s voices and nature programming samples, the canonical example being “Oscar See Through Red Eye,” the single (Bleep.com, 2005).
Contrary to critical opinion, there is no such thing as an instrument, in its fairest sense, used on this release. Yes, guitars and metronome-precise live percussion are employed to achieve their ends, but let us not kid ourselves: that guitar is clearly a far cry from anything near a “dry” sample. Likewise, pianos sound like scorched acid sounds twisted through reverb effects. Less like chemists in a lab than like carpenters in a workshop, or gardeners living amongst what they have designed, grown, and cultivated, this album showcases Marcus and Michael at their best, creating a soundtrack to life in the countryside the likes of which has not been heard before.
New Age Irony
The Campfire Headphase begins with “Into the Rainbow Vein,” a bookend track (the close of the album is heralded by the muted beauty of “Farewell Fire.”) Melodic elements and percussion are melded in a way that lends a sort of new-age irony to the work as a whole.
Reaction to the new album from individuals here was decidedly mixed (they were continually battered with it as it played constantly at my apartment during the course of this review) –maybe New York is not yet ready for songs that meander through life, unafraid and unapologetic. Culture here is decidedly morose lately. Beyond the standard bottom line dollar, people are still, admittedly or not, scarred from past events. Music has become utilitarian both in New York and elsewhere, a device designed to achieve status and the soundtrack to urban horror, and the door to legitimate creativity has been closed, thanks in part to the RIAA, MTV, and VH1 dictating taste (and doing a poor job of it too.)
Nevertheless, tunes like “Dayvan Cowboy,” a song that begins with melancholy gritty chords shimmering; and then, as if through an act of sheer will, segues perfectly into a crescendo of violins and crash symbols, chorused and flanged away, with harmonics and drums perfectly coinciding, sit amongst the people and culture here as well as they would in any beautiful place out in the country.
One Very Important Final Thought
If you were never a Boards of Canada fan, this album may change your mind (current fans need not worry about being disappointed.) Read about the campfires, the Scottish countryside, learn about the National Film Board of Canada, look at the pictures of the duo distorted through strange glasses, as many critics of this device oriented way of listening will tell you that no, you should simply sit in your chair and listen to the album. The rest, the pictures, and background, the people behind the music, is irrelevant. Nothing could be farther from the truth. There are interconnections between all of us, and this album requires an active, captivated listener to do it justice. Part of what makes any Boards of Canada album such a rich listening experience is the culture in which it is soaked. Not to imply that this album cannot stand on its own two feet – but after having heard the work as a whole, it is hard not to imagine the surroundings in which it was recorded. As I stated earlier, those surroundings have taken on an eerie green glow with this release; however, I am not implying there is anything particularly ominous about these songs. Like the scorched pianos and guitars found on these tracks, it is wholly otherworldly, and yet familiar in another sense, like pop sensibility seen through a strange refracting prism.
The Campfire Headphase will be released October 17th, 2005 on Warp Records.
