ComfortComes

Review: Cymbals Eat Guitar – Why There Are Mountains

WHOA-OO-WHOA-OO-WHOA-OO-WHOA-OO-OH! – the delightfully manic-depressive ‘…And The Hazy Sea’ grabs you by your hair and slams your face into ‘Why There Are Mountains.’ ENTIRELY unpredictable it yells at you, gently explains matters, yells at you again, consoles you, drifts into thoughtful silence and, while you rightfully shiver in your corner, then lets out a final frustrated scream in your direction before skulking away.

This barely-out-of-teens Brooklyn quartet must be aware of their own skills, as they released their debut album independently of any evil record label. Their confidence is not misplaced but then again, if you’d had The Wrens’ Charles Bissel giving you guitar lessons and recording your demos, you’d probably be pretty smug youself.

Cymbals Eat Guitars have a sound that is essentially a more elaborately conceived version of Pavement’s, to which they add a (what would usually be seen as) incongruous mixer in the form of a markedly Shields-ian drone. A sound you get a taste of in the opening of ‘Indiana’, and one that is shoved down your throat on ‘Share’ which incorporates both Loveless-era MBV as well as the more jangle-pop stylings that characterised their early years. As similarly epic as ‘…And The Hazy Sea’, ‘Share’ is quite the masterpiece as it manages to smoothly integrate, of all things, a horn section and a distorted hair-metal guitar squeal, as if these were the most natural things on earth to accompany the equally natural Pavement/MBV hybrid.

They branch away slightly from overbearing drone on Wind Phoenix veering more in the direction of perky, chime-laden indie-pop and oh, so much Malkmus. Wait, did I say indie-pop? I’d like to take that back. As hook-laden as the vocals are, there’s nothing ‘pop’ about the discordant cacophony that explodes in the midst of the song before peacefully subsiding and picking up the initial indie-pop thread where it had left off and then carrying on as if nothing had happened. It’s like having your day interrupted by the apocalypse and finding it to be nothing more than a minor distraction in the course of your usual routine. Cymbals Eat Guitars are impressively sure of themselves and with a sound as this polished and professional, you wonder if the reason they remain liberated of a label is because they simply haven’t been snapped up or because they’re earning themselves some indie cred.