Hello friends! I’m just stopping by to give you my 2014 wrap-up playlist. I’ve been working on this very hard, and I feel it’s finally acquired a certain elusive architecture, so here it is. There’s a lot of oddity on this one, as my life was filled with unusual and overwhelming events, so I feel that a jagged quality is in order for a yearly bottom line such as this. Please feel free to ask about the less common names on the playlist, I’d be happy to elucidate and impart some trivia, if I can. Cheers!
The new Kayo Dot album is not something one simply ignores. To be fair, this is true of most of their recordings – I’ve always either loved them to bits or simply not understood them, but I’ve never disliked them. However, Coffins on Io definitely falls into the first category for me. I’ll try to talk about Kayo Dot a third time, without repeating myself if possible.
In a way, Coffins on Io is a continuation of an older stylistic expedition for Kayo Dot. Their 2010 album, Coyote, drew heavily on an ’80s, goth/post-punk aural sensibility – powerful bass lines driving the songs, ethereal, plaintive vocals, meandering, dark song structures. Many of those choices persist on Coffins on Io, but it is clear that the intent has morphed subtly. Where Coyote was, for lack of a better word, a „concept album” centering on a very bleak theme which acted as a great catalyst for the return to the ’80s stylistic choice, Coffins on Io almost seems like an aftermath to that, like a take-off from the platform constructed by Coyote.
I wouldn’t want to be misunderstood – I doubt the two albums have much in common save for the strong references to the ’80s aesthetic. It just feels as though Toby Driver’s sources of inspiration are taking on a chronological symmetry. Coffins on Io seems to be built around aspects of darkwave, of electronic music such as Tangerine Dream, on the ruins of prog-rock as it was crumbling under its huge mass at the onset of the ’80s. It is glorious to see how these nuclei morph into the unique Kayo Dot molecule, yet again, so much more than the sum of its parts. Kayo Dot will not be confined, will not be tamed – it comes as a great surprise for me that after 2013’s Hubardo (an extremely dense, staggeringly difficult album), Kayo Dot would shift their attention and create Coffins on Io, although it probably shouldn’t at this point. They are the most mercurial band I’ve ever known, and there are no guarantees and no promises.
Coffins on Io has a steadily ascending learning curve, as it were. The more you advance, the more challenging the songs become, but it never asks more than it can give, and it’s never unfair to the listener. There’s also a certain cyclical quality to the album (not unlike their 2012 release – Gamma Knife, but less categorically), where the start and the finish seem to have more in common with each other than with what happens in between. Toby Driver is really on top of his compositional game on this album, and not only that, but he brings forth a completely new vocal technique – his remarkable falsetto, completely replacing the metal growls he would use on previous releases for variation of texture. Overall, the commitment to the chosen aesthetic seems more complete this time around, and Kayo Dot seem to be drawing more on their own experience as well, with gentle, accepting nods to previous sonic laboratories and forays they’ve engaged in. The effect is reassuring and welcome. I’m also glad to see that Coffins on Io is no longer self-released – I remember reading interviews with Toby Driver from the Gamma Knife, Hubardo years, and the strain of having to deal with self-releasing records seemed to weight heavily on him. It feels as though that weight has lifted, at least partially, and I feel Coffins on Io benefits from that.
If you’re curious, if you’re fascinated by the way old shapes can take new meaning, if you’re nostalgic without being anachronistic, then listen to Coffins on Io (and to Kayo Dot in general). Seriously, they’re one of the freshest, most thoughtful, deeply relevant music makers out there nowadays. Enjoy!
P.S.: Three years ago today I started ZaRecords. I honestly didn’t know for how long I would be able to make it last, and I still don’t. For now, it’s still lingering, half way between an obsession and an afterthought. Thank you all for sticking around for so long.
A few months back I was caught in a feverish state of praise for Kayo Dot, synchronized with the release of their latest record – Gamma Knife. I was mentioning their novel approach to extreme metal, their ability to transcend the formulas and bore down to a layer of unprecedented darkness and freshness. I have made it a habit to follow Toby Driver’s musical exploits ever since I first discovered Kayo Dot, and this has definitely payed off with my introduction to his new musical project – Vaura.
It’s proving really hard for me to dig up information on Vaura, keeping well in line with what I know of Toby Driver’s passion for creating puzzles for listeners to track down and decode. For example, their Facebook page only has the cryptic word “Æpochalypticism” in it, along with links to their other online outlets, which don’t help with the deciphering of their history very much either. It is, however, interesting to see that Toby Driver plays bass in this outfit, which is an unexpected shift of accent for him, at least for me. But the lack of trivia will just make it easier for me to focus on the music, and something tells me that’s the intent of the eerie factual silence surrounding them anyway.
This is the band’s debut album, adorned with one of the most enticing names I’ve ever heard, quite appropriate for the music and the self-reflective, razor sharp, intellectual way they approach metal. This is generous music, of wide breadth and spirit, blending echoes from a great many areas, from gothic rock to post-metal, from noise experimentation to black metal, from drone driven delirium to exquisite, vibrating sonic edifices of intimidating mass and height. The overall tone is very dark, pulsating with a cold, relentless, voracious aggression, but just as the name of the album suggests, there’s a form of uneasy, nigh-impossible balance being maintained within the music, a baffling, very hard to place source of light shining through all the gloom, made all the more resplendent by the contrast.
The visual reference of the album title reveals itself completely in the music – in opposite sides of the sky, at dusk, the sun falling and the eclipsed moon, both paradoxically visible through the illusion weaved by the very air we breathe – so bathed in the maddening rush of light from source to reflection, does the listener feel submerged in the musical onslaught of this record, trapped in sound, briefly, like light bending around the globe, pulverized through the shimmering barrier between the habitat and the uninhabitable. And with the same grace as the referenced astronomical phenomenon, the album manages to transcend the tempting impulses for harshness and jarring shifts between dark and light, and manages to maintain that breathtaking, mind bending hybridization of the two from start to finish.
As all music to which Toby Driver contributes in any way, this offering takes patience, it’s a true adventure, able to push the limits of one’s comfort zone in all the right ways and open the listener up not only to new music, but to new hearing! Give it a thorough listen if you’re feeling experimental. Enjoy!
I figured it was high time I opened this door for myself and review another album from a band I’d covered before. It’s a difficult maintaining such a bubbly attitude towards musical mood from one day to the next, and as it happens this has been a particularly barren Thursday, when for some reason I couldn’t really muster the energy to do much of anything, except listen to the new Kayo Dot album and feverishly ponder (on the music) and plot (on world domination). In any case, here goes, another dose of Kayo Dot.
I’ve been waiting for this release for two years now, for their 2010 album, Coyote, definitely left me hungry for more and their next release, titled Stained Glass, just added fuel to the fire. While Coyote had a clearly defined concept behind it (a sort-of reinterpretation of the late-seventies and eighties Goth aesthetic from a purely Kayo Dot standpoint), I’m still struggling to understand the underlying concept behind Gamma Knife, if there is one at all. Not that the music needs one to retain its considerable expressiveness, but I can’t help but search for it, seeing as it’s still a release from a band I perceive as eminently intellectual and passionate for connections and references which act above and beyond the musical realm. I was surprised to see that the album is so short, especially by their standards, but I’m pleasantly reminded of how little that means when it comes to substance and actual content.
This is a five-track record, structured in such a way as to allude to their previous method of shifting focus from one genre to the next within one song, but expanded throughout an entire release. The limits between approaches seem more clearly traced, as the first and last track are ethereal, majestic songs of dazzling beauty, while the three tracks in the middle stand on the chaotic, enraged bedrock of metal at its most fierce, but I get the impression the band is playing with a sort-of fractal approach here as well, managing a more subtle and tight weave of modern-classical composition with the black metal element than ever before. I’ve heard these three middle songs, which seem to be the enigma and the key to this record, classified as “black metal” with bold, albeit blind, in my opinion, decisiveness. I’ve heard black metal, and this isn’t it – these songs are so much more, so much more structured and complex in their flirtation with chaos, so much more mesmerizing in their patterns and frequencies. As always, straight-forward classification is a trap Kayo Dot seems to use as a form of temptation, only to pivot at the very last second and leave one’s maw gaping in surprise. Surely, there is ferocious anger and despair in these songs, but these sentiments are presented in such a way that they end up acquiring qualities which clearly set them apart from their labels as base emotions.
The way the album is put together, barely containing this deluge of exquisite brutality between two wonderfully meditative and melodious songs, is driven home by the fact that the material was recorded in two different locations – Lethe and Gamma Knife at Toby Driver’s home studio, sounding looked-after and remarkably well-polished, imbued with what feels like an pristine, white expanse of sound, and the three middle-tracks, in a live location, giving them a rough, slightly distant, muddled sound, which complements their aesthetic very well. One would think that with such division, the album would sound unbalanced but it isn’t so at all. If anything, Gamma Knife uses music to create the image of a bell, crystalline and massive, containing overwhelming resonance and volume. Perhaps this isn’t a random reference, seeing as the first track of the album begins with a delightful musical pattern performed on mellotron bells… In any case, the band seem to be doing something rather odd and slightly scary to me – they seem to have forsaken the concept of clear, easily identifiable melodies, in the search for greater expressiveness and freedom, and they’re taking me along with them, even though I could’ve sworn I was rather conservative on this point. I’m very much a fan of repetition and melody in music and usually condone dissonance and noise only as a pleasing form of contrast, meant to empower the underlying or alternating melody. And yet, here’s Kayo Dot, presenting this tumultuous, challenging record which I can’t be sure I would’ve liked a year ago, and instantly convincing me that I’m faced with a musical treasure. Wondrous…
In any case, I feel Gamma Knife is a great way to break a pattern for ZaRecords and allow myself to delve deeper into the moods certain bands can weave, even if it takes a couple of days. I hope you’ll give this record a spin (excuse the pun), and I’ll see you soon!
Kayo Dot is surely a demanding band, profound and uncompromising, requiring great patience and sensitivity from the listener. Listening to them is like partaking in an exhausting and yet eminently satisfying intellectual debate, full of eloquence, disagreement and flashes of epiphany, poetic and philosophical quotes, and obscure references. Kayo Dot is pretentious and fully aware of that, but it isn’t gratuitous pretentiousness, they’re not doing it for the sake of humiliating anyone, but rather because it’s natural for them, it’s a well-integrated aspect of their experience, which they convey in a civilized, honest manner. I definitely enjoy their attitude once in a while, to such an extent that I can safely say they’re one of my favorite bands, and have been so from the first time I heard them.
The first thing Kayo Dot do is simply smack you over the head with their uncanny ability to superimpose such apparently contradictory modes of expression as classical music in its most delicate, chamber-orchestra form, and extreme metal at its most dissonant and berserk peaks. This acts almost like an ars poetica in their case, it’s the first clue that they’re proposing something more than collections of songs, reaching boldly into the realm of the manifesto. It’s as if the albums themselves are merely shining examples of the validity of their aesthetic standpoint. Shifting from simple, acoustic guitar driven melodies, remarkably vibrant as they are, to electronic distortions of mastermind Toby Driver’s voice, to explosions of sound bellowed forth by their quasi-orchestra and finally to complete, unrelenting deconstruction via so much sound it becomes noise, Kayo Dot treats each song as a form of architecture in 4D, that is to say, from inception to ultimate ruin.
Their ability to follow the complex, tangled threads of their own songs from one knot to the other with dazzling ease and grace is just staggering, and makes me feel Toby Driver is probably one of the most gifted musical minds of our generation, able to pick up on the slightest vibration and mood proposed by the sonic boom of his more monumental passages and simply coax it forward in the next, sweet and delicate stretch of the song, in such a way as to make the pieces feel like tense, phantasmagorical journeys through a vibrant, scintillating web of emotion and drama. Just like in a dream state, you never know when the whole thing will come crashing down on top of you, since every path you take seems endless for a little while, the potential in each musical measure allowing for vast exploration. Of course, in spite of what one might think when seeing the sheer length of these songs, Kayo Dot is never self-indulgent, so the shift towards downfall or sublimation will come, sooner than later, but the bottom line is every musical phrase makes you feel like it could sustain your interest indefinitely.
Choirs of the Eye is Kayo Dot’s debut album, although Toby Driver and many of the members of the original line-up had been working together since 1996 in a band called Maudlin of the Well, so it shouldn’t necessarily come as a surprise their sound is so well-refined, so robust. In spite of this, I still feel in awe at the way Kayo Dot manages to sound completely armored and sure of its footing, reminding me of the myth concerning the goddess Athena, born fully armored and armed from Zeus’ head. She was a goddess of both war and wisdom, and I believe that domain definitely applies to Kayo Dot as well – destructive and fiercely creative at the same time, this band makes music feel a bit like ritual, a bit like a theatrical representation of some overwhelming cosmogony myth. The ebb and flow of sound on this record, the way their frequency slices time up into sluggish areas and furious, hectic stretches leads me to reflect on the way matter behaved, changed, morphed and stabilized from the Big Bang onward, it brings into focus hypotheses and principles of theoretical physics, as seen through my dilettante eye, more poetically than physically. I would go so far as to call this music “total”, unbound by extrinsic aesthetic considerations and following only a deeply internalized, self-sufficient mode of thought, again, poetic, or maybe oneiric. But I seem to be overtaken by a form of linguistic pretentiousness (even more so than usually) when trying to talk about this album, so I should probably stop while there’s still time.
I just found out Kayo Dot released a new album a mere three weeks ago, so don’t be surprised if I end up fawning over it soon enough. In the meanwhile, I hope you enjoy the discussion proposed by Choirs of the Eye, and I’ll see you soon.