A finely wrought working of materials drawn from the drone-ambient-postrock depository into a coherent flow that feels both of and apart from its tributaries.
The passage of Drape’s first LP to final vinyl, after smooth initial delivery, has been somewhat ill-starred. Beset with trouble at the Infraction mill, attended by dark mutterings of ‘natural phenomena’ and ‘broken plates,’ pressing and manufacturer issues, material dating back to 2007-08 only now finally finds itself fully waxed. Gratifying, then, to hear An Idea and Its Map still sounding fresh and fertile as on first emergence—rough drafts having been aired way back before previous releases, Dream Words (Gears of Sand, 2009) and Split (Sanity Muffin, 2009).
Late to the ambient drone table they may be, but Ryan Gracey and Spencer William bring plenty to it. For An Idea and Its Map the Portland pair appear to have thickened up their previous aethers into meatier micro-orchestrals and more caustic smears, charged with a particulate patina and a caché of dissolved grit. The makeover is heard to good effect on opening salvo, “Solo in High Dreary,” sediment sluicing through swells that well and surge, then radiate and fade away from streamers to a wisp. On “The Visible The Untrue” piano tones outfold to a distant gathering, sonorities suggestively stretching between sun-dappled glade and blasted heath. They set guitars, variously treated, on sustain stun, dialing in dissonance and consonance in equal measure into their drones and washes, surface lightness ruffled by undercurrents in dark water. The tenor is one of slow deliberate accrual of light and warmth, fleeting shivers and trembles. Theirs is a dynamic drawing on both Ambient’s chronostasis and Post-rock’s quiet-loud paradigm, seen exemplary on “Fanfare for Lake Flies,” wherein strings and siren calls are summoned to join with their infinite guitars. On “Relative Minors” starbright chords are set against sublimated turbulence—subtly visceral, the duo’s tension-resolution moves first hold burgeoning tones teetering on the edge, then give fuller voice to liquid upwellings and ignition to smouldering embers to flare up into pale fire.
Overall, Drape’s is a finely wrought working of materials drawn from the drone-ambient-postrock depository into a coherent flow that feels both of and apart from its tributaries. More bespoke, the Stars of the Lid slip showing on the earlier album tucked in and the vintage Tangerine Dream and space music bulges smoothed out, they operate more as tints, or texture templates, on a more customized sound palette. With influences thus absorbed through recontextualization, a more distinctive Drape is drawn out over the course of An Idea And Its Map—less space-music, more like space, leaving down the lid for the stars. Neither New Age lull-fest nor doomy drone–sprawl, spooling sonorous squalls and tender timbres from drone-base to bliss-out, and on to post-classical soundtrack strains, it’s a late 2012 gem of a find for the estimable Infraction—one that would, incidentally, make a fine pair with the same stable’s late-2011 sleeping beauty, Willamette’s Echo Park.
An Idea And Its Map is available now on Infraction, vinyl or digital.
