One of the few things that I don’t enjoy so much about running a review site is that I’ll come across a band, fall head over heels in love with their sound and then, for a variety of reasons, not cover them again for years. It’s never intentional, but the sheer volume of music makes it difficult, sometimes, to simply follow a handful of favoured acts when there’s so much more out there to discover. For the most part, it’s an equitable trade but, occasionally, a release lands that reminds me that there is a cost.
This is very much the case with Carlton Melton, a band I covered in 2010. I have always remembered them but, while it doesn’t feel like sixteen years have passed, I guess they must have, for the band have released a whole host of music since. Anyhow, while it may have been a long road back to Carlton Melton, it is a pleasure to find myself once more standing in awe at their deeply evocative music.
A four-track album recorded live with synthesist/guitarist Anthony Taibi, Reason Beings is Carlton Melton’s first new album in three years (following on from Turn to Earth), and it finds the band once more taking the listener to the farthest-flung reaches of their imagination with a heady mix of Syd Barrett-era Pink Floyd, Mogwai, Velvet Underground, and Gong.
The album opens with the dynamic rush of Spirit Lens, a scene setter that emerges from a miasmic haze of reverb-drenched guitar. Driven by Andy Duvall’s percussion, the guitars seem to float over Clint Golden’s sanguine basslines, striving for the stars and remaining tantalisingly out of reach of the listener. The result, for those who are of a synesthetic persuasion, is not unlike finding yourself in a giant planetarium, the music pulling, pulling you ever deeper into unrecognizable star fields as the layers of guitar and noise build and build.
It benefits, of course, from being a live recording and the band have also neatly captured Syd’s trick of appearing to be forever on the verge of collapse, leaving the listener to wonder if the band will even make it to the end. They do of course, with burning shades of guitar raining down, as if passing through the fierce heat of a new atmosphere, leaving the listener lost amidst trails of molten feedback.
And that’s just the first song.
It segues into the coruscating feedback of Comes Fire, a fifteen-minute exploration that traces the spiritual line between Pink Floyd and Sonic Youth, occasionally digressing to the dark groove of Death In Vegas via the hypnotic pulse of the drums and a surprisingly salacious bassline. Played loud, it’s a track to lose oneself within, and you can only imagine the power of this track when the band grace the stage later in the month. A changeable track, at times it seems to coalesce into something more straightforward, with a passage at around the four-and-a-half-minute mark doing much to recall the frazzled psychedelia of Spacemen 3, albeit without the vocals. Instead, the riff just keeps growing until it threatens to eclipse everything else, the track finally giving way beneath the weight of some truly frenetic lead work.
Dark synths pave the way for The Absence of Sensation. It’s a track that finds the band very much on a Pink Floyd trip, the dense atmosphere echoing elements of Meddle, with just a touch of The Orb’s playful spirit to be found amidst the soundscapes. Based around a somnolent beat, it pushes the listener into a dream state, the eerie synth patches combining to emulate alien voices before being swept away by wave upon wave of glorious guitar. David Gilmour once spoke of the sensation that you get from standing in front of a blazing amplifier, almost supported by the power of the chords pouring forth. Played loud enough, this is the perfect song to recreate that sensation, once more transporting you to another world.
The final track, Forever Room, is woozier, the sound of overloaded synths paving the way for a piece of music that refuses to take form. With the drums out of the picture, it’s an ever-evolving noisescape, not unlike some of Sonic Youth’s SYR series or, perhaps, Neil Young’s Arc. A hypnotic coda to an album that reaches for, and attains, the heavens, Forever Room feels like the pathway back to consciousness, guided by the surprisingly gentle hands of Carlton Melton.
That’s it. Four tracks, one remarkable journey. There’s a warmth and depth to Carlton Melton’s sound that defies interpretation, asking you instead to take it on faith that they’ll guide you to somewhere truly special. With Reason Beings, this is precisely what they do, once again reminding the listener of the transformative power of music. It may have been sixteen years since I last found my way to Carlton Melton’s unique world, but to listen to this album is to feel the years drift away, and it is a pleasure to drift once more alongside them. 10/10
