I barely made it, but it’s still Wednesday where I am, so it counts goddamnit. Here are three reviews for new albums from Guided by Voices, Blood Incantation, and Cate Le Bon. Now go to bed.

Guided by Voices – Crystal Nuns Cathedral
(March 4, 2022)

Keeping up with the sheer output volume of Robert Pollard’s numerous projects over the last 40 years is a full-time job, and I already have a full-time job! A full-time job that pays me money! So I’ve only listened to, and barely absorbed, a small handful of Pollard’s albums from the lo-fi years. Propeller, Bee Thousand, Alien Lanes, and his solo debut Not in My Airforce. So that leaves about 4,500 songs I haven’t heard before; nothing from from the major label era, let alone anything that came out this millennium.

So, why not jump in again in 2022? I’ve got a lot of catching up to do, this is pretty good stuff. Vibrant, melodic, indie rock music from the aging, prolific songwriter. I’m not used to Guided by Voices albums with less than 15-20 songs, so hearing all these tracks with fleshed-out structures and bridges and verses and choruses is, well, it’s unusual. Interesting and familiar, but unusual.

The mark of an instant classic is its repeatability. Every listen further crystallizes these fine, fine melodies in my mushy little brain. Power pop finesse of “Excited Ones”, the rhythmic cadence of “Bird in the Pipe”, the irresistible chorus of “Mad River Man”. Crystal Nuns Cathedral is akin to a solid, short-and-sweet album of the classic rock era. Time for me to start doing an extended Pollard binge, I’ve been neglecting all this music for far too long.

Early Verdict:

Blood Incantation – Timewave Zero
(February 25, 2022)

Now this is straight out of left field. Blood Incantation, the American death metal band that crossed over into the mainstream in 2019 with its four-track psychedelic sci-fi prog-flavored Hidden History of the Human Race, is now an ambient ’70s krautrock band.

Reportedly, the band had always intended this drastic shift in musical ideology. It better represents the music they’re fans of themselves: sweeping, minimalistic, electronic soundscapes. There’s also a part of that interview where vocalist/guitarist Paul Riedl gets all defensive about the possibility that they might upset their fans. “We don’t play games, man. We’re not here to just have fun because death metal is fun on the internet.” Strong fightin’ words! Go listen to more Enya, sir.

While lot of people are unhappy about the complete lack of alien-infused distorted guitar riffs and throaty, pummeling growls, I will never give any band shit for experimenting outside of its established niche. In fact, I welcome it. I wish it happened way more often. There are two vinyl side-long compositions here, “Io” and “Ea”, that pulse and throb and meander delicately through cosmic dreamscapes, exploring the lighter side of “dark ambient”. Porcupine Tree’s Steven Wilson would love this album, as it evokes Tangerine Dream or early King Crimson moods with pitch perfect resonance.

That being said, ambient music is still a tough nut for me to crack. Usually relegated to background music while I need to focus on reading or writing, this album will likely never get queued up for active listening. And, I might as well admit it too, I wish this was a death metal album instead. For what it is, though, it’s not too shabby.

Early Verdict:

Cate Le Bon – Pompeii
(February 4, 2022)

I became a casual Cate Le Bon fan when she released Crab Day in 2016. Her jagged and oddly arranged songs with her smooth accent created just the right mix of delightful weirdness. Then Reward came out in 2019, which tempered the jaggedness, maintained some of the weirdness, and received a bit more attention and acclaim, but left me a little bit cold. Now there’s Pompeii, which all but eliminated the jaggedness and even lost a lot of the weirdness. It’s very subdued. I don’t know what to think. I’m conflicted.

I can’t fault on atmosphere. If the point of Pompeii is to be unsettling and wary, then Le Bon definitely nails it with coldly layered synths and saxophone that paint bleak, abstract portraits of brooding isolation. In short, it’s another pandemic album. And maybe I’m tired of pandemic albums right now. Maybe I’m not in the mood these days to contemplate over imagery and symbolism of an entire city disappearing under volcanic ash.

And even if the lyrics themselves don’t necessary present a prevailing anxiety of such doom and gloom (“French Boys”, for example, seems to be about issues of self-confidence), the hypnotically solemn music sure does. So perhaps it’s not the right time for this one for me. Although I do begrudgingly enjoy the lines “Get dressed/You’re a mess/You’re a sight/Did you dream about Pompeii?“. It feels like I’ve been dreaming about Pompeii a lot lately myself.

Early Verdict: