Phosphene

There's a couple of interviews with Portland-based Phosphene's Rachel Frankel and Matt Hemmerich where they discuss the post-election events which in-part shaped the writing and recording of their self-released sophomore album "Lotus Eaters". The album's title - which from Greek mythology refers to an island-living race whose primary food source was the aforementioned lotus and which caused the inhabitants to live in peaceful apathy - whilst serving as a metaphor for what many of us have tried to cope with the past four years - would also appear to be mirrored by the apparent over-riding simplicity and apparent effortlessness of the songs themselves; offering the opportunity for the unwary listener to escape into a world of lush jingly-jangly indie-rock / pop at its finest… Which as my regular reader will recall, I've previously mentioned that I have a similar habit of listening to a song with my feet first before engaging my brain… However, don't be fooled - similar to the narcotic properties of the mythological fruit - this incredibly accessible soundtrack in reality masks the complexities and depth of an album resplendent with poetic, thoughtful, yet dark lyricism and gorgeous vocals, all of which permeate throughout 

The album opens with "Incinerate", a classic post break-up song and one that gives notice to the thoughtful lyricism on display - sorrowful and ultimately quite dismissive of the ex… the twist is our protagonist fully expects to make the same mistake again… It's also not the first time that Matt's metronomic drumming (or for that matter, Kevin Kaw's bass) sets the back-beat to a song and here, when coupled to the - circa "Daydream Nation" - Sonic Youth-inspired chord progression, generates the dynamic drive the song demands. It's a great opener and one which ensures there's no going to be shuffle-play here. It's also the first introduction to Rachel's dreamy yet crystalline vocals, floating atop the song's pummelling barrage. There's a certain Harriet Wheeler lushness and clarity to Rachel's vocals shares that same lushness and clarity as Harriet Wheeler - in fact it's probably not that much of a stretch to say that aficionados of The Sundays or indeed the roster of Sarah Records will find a warm welcome here. 

That being said, I suspect "Spiral" will turn out to be my favourite song. Lyrically it defines the album, both capturing the mood and uncertainty of the time as well as the desire to seek solace with someone or something reassuring. Sonically, this song ticks all the right boxes - full of dreamy hooks, melodies and The Luxembourg Signal languid soundscapes - especially the dreamy "Laura Palmer".

There's more of that irresistible Sarah / C86 thing going on with "Frames" - it's actually a beautiful pop-song whose upbeat tempo belies the bittersweet lyricism - until about two-thirds through, when there's a distinct change of mood; the drums and bass pick-up a notch and are pushed to the fore, the tone of Rachel's voice hardens before guitars take up the slack to the end. It's a cleverly constructed song and one which again demonstrates that the band have put a fair amount of thought into this album…

As a change of pace, both "Seven Ways" and "The Body" introduce those pensive post-punk meets dark-wave notes. There's an eerie monochromatic sparseness to the former, broken by bright shafts of shimmering guitars which are just as quickly subdued into an inky blackness that perfectly frames the suffocating lyrics… All I'll add is that at 3'11" this song is way to short! Meanwhile "The Body" features one of those moody bass lines that generally has me gazing down at the floor as I wander aimlessly in circles as if in a trance before it erupts into one of those anthemic middle-eights which always catches you off-guard. To be honest this is one of those mysterious and multi-faceted songs that throws both light and shade depending upon how you approach… which is my way of admitting that even after repeated listenings, I'm not convinced I fully understand what's going on!

Possibly a bit of a left-field suggestion, but there's a similarity between Rachel's song-writing and that of Jessica Weiss of Brighton's Fear of Men. Both are cerebral lyricists who contrast bittersweet, forlorn and melancholy prose with lush, dreamy and Shoegazy-inspired hues. This theory especially seems to come together during the the fleeting chorus which serves as the denouement to "Carousel". I wonder if Rachel is similarly influenced by the writings of Anaïs Nin and Sylvia Plath?

I have to say that while musically "Cocoon" is the album's outlier - deceptively simplistic, with a quirky straightforwardness coupled to a bouncy chord progression and metronomic drums - which acts as the perfect foil to the lyrics' multi-layered complexity; there's the playful feel of charming love song, how love not only changes how you feel about yourself but how you can change others... Nevertheless as the song progresses there's a brooding darkness gathering; while change can be for the better, it can also turn malignant. I suspect that while this song won't be the obvious choice for listeners' favourite track (guilty as charged!) I'd argue that it is the one that deserves serious consideration.

Phosphene's Rachel Frankel and Matt Hemmerich

Personally though, I'm always drawn to a song where the lead-in features percussive drumming and a throbbing bass, especially when it couples into a gorgeous guitar melody and vocals… and on that score "Incandescent Plumes" was always guaranteed to grab my attention, especially when the song erupts into a coda of wailing guitars. Again though, it's another example of the band’s astute juxtaposition of a bright indie-rock soundtrack set against dark, powerful lyrics  - images of a relationship gone violently wrong and the subsequent self-recrimination and remorse - there's some demons being exorcised here… It’s not the first time the band have pulled this trick with seemingly effortless aplomb.

The album's penultimate track, "The Wave" is simply indie-pop at its finest. Crunching bass duels with dreamy escapist lyrics and vocals from the off. Drums and guitars pick-up the pace and crash head-long into one of those ear-worming pop-tastic choruses - matched it has to be said by the uplifting middle-eight - that  you just can’t shake.  By rights this should be one of those songs that annoys the hell out of me as it’s always there every time I turn on the radio… Which to be honest would be never - though you do realise how shit FM radio is in my adopted part of the world?

Never mind though, as in perfect bookend symmetry that fuzzy Sonic Youth guitar riff makes a welcome reappearance on the album’s closer “Skyscraper Shade” and another song which I found myself listening with my feet on several occasions before I started even paying attention to the words and the twist that becomes apparent during the chorus...  

Listening to this album reinforces my belief that there is so much great music being created by artists that are so deserving of a wider audience. Unfortunately, at a time where it's never been easier to release music, it's arguably becoming more and more difficult to for that music to grab a wider audience - indeed if I hadn’t randomly checked back to the first blog post I’d written in years - this album would most likely have cruelly past me by...

This is an album that deserves to be heard. Stream it if you must - but better still, buy. Daniel Ek may think music is a disposable commodity but trust me, it isn't. Music is Art and deserves our patronage. Which is my way of saying that not only is "Lotus Eaters" an album which is a nailed-on certainty for a place in this year's best-of, but there's also a back-catalogue to become acquainted with...

Phosphene (Facebook), (Instagram)

"Lotus Eaters" (Bandcamp)