Piano Magic
Artists' Rifles
Rocket Girl
It's not often you hear a band call itself a contemporary recording alliance, but the folks behind Piano Magic, whoever they might be, tend to do things a bit differently.
Following in the tradition of the late '80s 4AD project This Mortal Coil, the, erm, alliance's lineup changes on virtually every release, with the only constant being principal songwriter and sometimes vocalist Glen Johnson. Johnson and company's last effort, the stellar Low Birth Weight, read like a who's who in contemporary indie. Borrowing from all sorts of hip indie groups, it featured 14 musicians, eight of whom had songwriting credits. Easily one of the best albums of 1999, the album stands as proof Johnson could work with just about anyone and still come up with great results.
Like Low Birth Weight, Artists' Rifles is a lush, brooding, song-oriented album that shows that the band has drifted a bit from its noodly, sampley past. With musical debts to the Cocteau Twins, Bark Psychosis and My Bloody Valentine, Artists' Rifles continues to find new sounds within the territory the group first mapped on its debut album, Popular Mechanics.
Even Johnson's quirky instrumentals explore unforeseen nooks and crannies. "1.16" — all but one of the instrumentals is untitled, identified only by its length — leads off the album with a somber, militaristic beat. Later on, "1.22" forms another, tinnier percussive loop, more in the vein of something you might find on Low Birth Weight.
The repetitive, Krautrocky rhythms of that album have been put on the backburner, while lightly played, pastoral guitar comes to the fore. "The Index" and the instrumental "Century Schoolbook" could pass for folk music. The phrases "ever-more" and "Spanish guitar" even appear in the former.
The minimalism of "You & John Are Birds" makes for a nice lead-in to the folk songs. Featuring the album's best couplet,
And in my address book, you appear as birds
Drawn in, no words.
the layered, subtle piece blends slightly-reverbed, lightly played guitar with chirping birds and a softly-sung, breathy duet between Johnson and PM semi-fixture Caroline Potter.
In contrast, the Johnson-voiced "Password" begins with a minimalist, reverbed guitar. He sings of the inspiration for his password ("a dead aunt's name") and of the feelings of loss that accompany aging. Between verses, we're treated to drums, an insistent bass and pleading, shimmering guitar. The song begins to build once Johnson finishes singing, slowly escalating in tempo, intensity and volume until we are left with heavily-thumped toms and bass drums accompanied by a pulsing scree of beautiful guitar noise. The title track, which follows "Password" and closes the album, seems almost anti-climactic.
Listeners who've been lucky enough to hear Piano Magic will find much to recommend this album. It holds up well on its own, and while it doesn't quite match the beauty or depth of Low Birth Weight, it's a worthy complement. As for anyone unexposed to the group, track down Low Birth Weight if you can, but feel free to settle for this should the older work prove unavailable.
Though Piano Magic has yet to release an album in the United States, its records and CDs can be purchased from any of these online sources.
— Eric Wittmershaus (ericw at flakmag dot com)
