I’m usually too much of an uncouth and uncultured swine to appreciate the finer things in life; wine, double-breasted suits, dinner parties. Y’know, the usuals.
And under that moniker of ‘not for me, thanks’ I’ve often found myself placing anything which falls even remotely under the tag of experimental and/or atmospheric. I find Mogwai boring and Sigur Ros entirely uninspiring. Even something like Converge I can take or leave, depending on mood.
But They and the Children have managed to somehow craft an experimental hardcore journey via whistle stop tours of places of such aural interest that I was slightly taken aback. Home is an epic, sludgy, bubbling blend of crescendo-crammed creation. Torche manage to create a few ripples with their powerful, droning rhythms; this is more like a wave machine. The contrast within one near nine-minute song (‘Invisible’) is astonishing.
This is the kind of listen where, after such lengthy songs, you’d expect to have to sit down and take notes. I feel like I’ve traversed about a quarter of the musical spectrum, but I can barely begin to recollect which bits. Like some sort of drug-induced driving coma.
The abstract nature of these comments mirrors the off-centre nature of this as a release. If you’re looking for something singalong, you’re in the wrong place. But maybe, like me, you might be converted into taking a meandering musical trip to destinations to you paid no attention to – something most of which most of us are guilty at some point. A musical experience.