Flak Magazine: Review of Unwound's Leaves Turn Inside You, 06-26-01

Whenever a band's recording lull hits the two-year point, their upcoming release picks up a dangerous qualifier: "anticipated." Weezer's just-ended dry spell and the ongoing — most likely eternal — wait for the next My Bloody Valentine record should be sure signs of the expectations that build and build and then dissipate into murmurs of shouldabeen, couldabeen and whatthehellisthis. Despite the gap between 1998's Challenge for a Civilized Society and Leaves Turn Inside You, Olympia, Wash.'s Unwound returns to the indie rock scene with few expectations, and it's a shame because the group would have exceeded them all.

A two-disc effort, Leaves is a monstrous record most bands would lack the confidence to make. On the best album yet in this still-young year, the group's jagged fold of guitar, bass and drums welcomes keyboards, harpsichords and even more keyboards (they mention the Fisk Institute For Keyboard Awareness in the liner notes!). Songs regularly stretch over the five-minute mark and radically change from one bar to the next.

Unwound's decision to split Leaves into two discs was a smart one. Too many artists (Tool, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Bob Dylan) push albums past the 70- or 80-minute mark and make it impossible to digest the recordings in one sitting. By separating the album into two halves, each with an obvious beginning, middle, and end, Unwound essentially creates two records. The first sticks with the group's classic sound — melodic dissonance — while the second disc presents a barrage of tenderly shaped guitar noise and keyboard atmosphere.

"Terminus," on the first disc, links the two distinct styles together. It starts off with an abrasive sound that Unwound fans will find familiar — guitars that have no interest in chord progressions and a voice that mimics them. But midway through the cut, keyboards take the reins, leaving the noisiness behind in a rolling tide of chiming notes.

Competing with My Bloody Valentine's legacy of taking so much time and money to lay down its masterpiece, 1991's Loveless, which nearly bankrupted Creation Records, Unwound built its own studio, Magrecone, for the recording of Leaves. Obviously the band's own facility provided plenty of time for meticulous arranging, as well as a comfort level that enabled them to expand their sound. The three-year hiatus and the complexities of the double-disc prove that to be the case.

Artistic indulgence is not the only area where the two bands' paths bleed together. For much of Leaves, Unwound reaches for the same haze of delay pedals and layers upon layers of multi-tracking MBV perfected. It doesn't match that group's glory (and really nothing can), but for those of you blue in the face waiting for the next MBV, consider this a snorkel.

Even with so many tracks to choose from, "Off This Century," the first disc's closer, is undoubtedly the standout (it even approaches the greatness of "The Light at the End of the Tunnel is a Train" from one of Unwound's 12" singles). The verses reflect The Future of What-era Unwound, building with a progressive rhythm, all of it pushing to an anthemic chorus that might leave U2 in jealous tears. Leaves is so good it's bound to make Unwound's next record a letdown. But with this stunning achievement to compare it to, it is doubtful that many people will care.

— Yancey Strickler (ystrickler@yahoo.com)