A three-piece comprising Emilie Zoe, Franz Treichler and Nicolas Pitet, /A\ (and what a nightmare that name is to Google) are typical of Hummus Records’ output insofar as they are gloriously atypical. With acoustic and electronic instruments swirling together in the mix, elements of pop, post rock and triphop all emerge at times, only to be lost in the wider scope of an album more interested in atmosphere than spurious genre alignments. This is, perhaps, to be expected, given that the album emerged from a series of jam sessions rather than some master plan, and the result is thus rather more spur-of-the-moment and organic – a rare treat in these days of tightly plotted and computer-refined albums. Available on both CD and gorgeously packaged vinyl (for which the album is perfectly sequenced), via Hummus Records, this is a truly essential work of art.
The album opens with the introspective post-rock of Hotel Stellar, a beautifully constructed piece of music that mixes dusty riffs and a slow-motion beat to recall a mix of Low and Seafood, the latter particularly in the way that Franz Treichler and Emilie Zoe (both very capable vocalists) take turns at the mic to further draw out the abstract narrative. The track gently meanders to its end, the layers of reverb slowly absorbing the melody, only for the metronomic beat of Grain Sand And Mud to pull the album out of its post-rock reverie. Here, Franz and Emilie sing in unison over stabbing guitars that slowly expand to fill the void. A near-perfect exercise in tension and release, it’s over all too quickly, the band ensuring that not a moment overstays its welcome, despite the loose, jammed out vibe employed during recording. Next up, the lysergic We Travel The Light is darker, recalling the half-whispered rhymes of Tricky’s still-awe-inspiring debut album. A dark trip hop only rarely heard these days, We Travel The Light is the sound of a band exploring their influences and carving out their own space within them, and it is a truly stunning track.
With We Travel The Light having collapsed in on itself, the album is reset with the queasy proto-industrial of Fire In My Fingers. Stripped back to the bare essentials and held in check by the wiry rhythms of Nicolas Pitet, it’s an unusual exercise in restraint when modern production so often dictates that more is, well more, and it sounds all the better for it. After such intensity, the sublime beauty of Count To Ten allows for a moment of whispered calm, the percussion dispensed with altogether, to be replaced by rippling guitar that tugs at the heart as the twin vocals of Emilie and Franz catch a perfect memory: “and the night drops all its stars, the echoes all along, I will quietly pick them up, but it’s only a loan”. A dark beat announces the arrival of The Leaves, a track that dabbles with an industrial trip hop, part Tricky, part latter-day NIN, the titular leaves seeming to represent the hopeless cycle of existence. The album ends with the slow-burning instrumental Our Love Is Growing, the sonic equivalent to staring out of the train window as it slowly travels into the sunset. Elements of Pink Floyd can be found here, alongside Mogwai and Red Sparowes, and it provides a most fitting end to this elegant album.
You might imagine that, over time, with reviewing would come ennui. Yet this is not the case. There is so much amazing music out there, just waiting to be found and, with SonicAbuse, we are only able to scratch the surface of it all. Listening to /A\ I felt that same sense of excitement that, as a teenager I felt discovering bands like Sonic Youth and Fugazi. There’s an artistry to the music, an honesty and a passion that is undeniable. Subtly produced and beautifully played, the band deftly move through a range of emotions and styles, rarely staying still and never overplaying their hand. Best heard in one continuous sitting (ideally with the lights turned low and no other distractions), this self-titled effort is a masterclass in slow-burning intensity. 10/10
