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EDWARD KA-SPEL, "PIECES OF 8"
Beta-Lactam Ring
Pieces of 8 is the latest bookend to the long shelf filled with China Dolls too numerous to count, the holy books of Illumina, Lilith and Tanith, the Heartbreak, the Needles and the colors: Blue Room, Red Letters and Graye Skreeens. A vague continuation of the nautical, "soul set adrift at sea" themes explored on 2001's rambling, unfocused O'er a Shalabast'r Tyde Strolt Ay, the new album is — true to its title — an embarrassment of riches, a sunken treasure chest of pirate's booty. Pieces of 8is an amazingly well-crafted concept album of remarkable strength andfocus from an artist who would have every right to be well past hisartistic prime. Over the years, we've learned how to listen to EdwardKa-Spel's solo albums: the well-worn sonic palette, the familiararsenal of metaphors and lyrical themes. Ka-Spel's career as a soloartists is virtually predicated on its unfaltering uniformity,constantly retracing its own lines, deepening the grooves of an etchinglong since completed. Those who love Ka-Spel's music know to listen forthose tiny nuances, the changes in perspective, the recycling andre-contextualization of familiar lyrical conceits. Hence, there issomething of a learning curve for this music, an "EKS literacy" that isnurtured over time by repetitive exposure. What's amazing about Pieces of 8is that it may be Edward's first album that peeks its out of thatendlessly self-referential universe of bedroom electronics, crepuscularpsychedelia and microcosmic dread. Musically, it's one of the bestalbums EKS has ever crafted, consisting of several solid songwritingefforts balanced perfectly with evocative sound-effects suites andpassages of pure electronic ambience. Ka-Spel's trademark gallows humoris fully intact, explicating his constant themes of personal anduniversal apocalypse, and the existential dread experienced in a worldof human emotions increasingly mediated by technology. Opening with awhimsical sea-shanty that evokes some pre-war street accordionistplaying in a French harbor town, "The Writing on the Wall" inexplicablytransforms into a haunting piano dirge littered with atmosphericsamples. As ever, Edward is a storyteller, his lyrics spinning a yarnof a doomed man forced to walk the plank who, paradoxically, seemsendlessly amused by his fate. "Here Comes the Night" is a lengthy,sprawling ambient piece that follows the more abstract moments of Dark Side of the Moonto their logical conclusion: a majestic space-scape haunted by fragilepiano melodies and the ghostly transmissions of long-abandoneddeep-space probes. The blasted, distorted electro groove of "Comedown"is punctuated by handclaps and noisy throbs, Edward's spiralling vocalsevoking the terrors of infancy, pausing briefly to reference DavidLynch's Eraserhead. "Alms for Lepers" is more standard EKSfare: melancholic vocals filled with linguistic puns and odd metaphors,against a backdrop of spectral keyboards and deliberately syntheticdrum programming. The lengthy final track is a meticulouslyconstructed, multi-layered kosmische symphony of cyclical electronicpulses that build in hallucinogenic intensity before giving way to ascratchy, warbling old 78 spinning out fractured, kaleidescopicnostalgia which bobs out over the whitecaps and disappears from view.
Pieces of 8 is the latest bookend to the long shelf filled with China Dolls too numerous to count, the holy books of Illumina, Lilith and Tanith, the Heartbreak, the Needles and the colors: Blue Room, Red Letters and Graye Skreeens. A vague continuation of the nautical, "soul set adrift at sea" themes explored on 2001's rambling, unfocused O'er a Shalabast'r Tyde Strolt Ay, the new album is — true to its title — an embarrassment of riches, a sunken treasure chest of pirate's booty. Pieces of 8is an amazingly well-crafted concept album of remarkable strength andfocus from an artist who would have every right to be well past hisartistic prime. Over the years, we've learned how to listen to EdwardKa-Spel's solo albums: the well-worn sonic palette, the familiararsenal of metaphors and lyrical themes. Ka-Spel's career as a soloartists is virtually predicated on its unfaltering uniformity,constantly retracing its own lines, deepening the grooves of an etchinglong since completed. Those who love Ka-Spel's music know to listen forthose tiny nuances, the changes in perspective, the recycling andre-contextualization of familiar lyrical conceits. Hence, there issomething of a learning curve for this music, an "EKS literacy" that isnurtured over time by repetitive exposure. What's amazing about Pieces of 8is that it may be Edward's first album that peeks its out of thatendlessly self-referential universe of bedroom electronics, crepuscularpsychedelia and microcosmic dread. Musically, it's one of the bestalbums EKS has ever crafted, consisting of several solid songwritingefforts balanced perfectly with evocative sound-effects suites andpassages of pure electronic ambience. Ka-Spel's trademark gallows humoris fully intact, explicating his constant themes of personal anduniversal apocalypse, and the existential dread experienced in a worldof human emotions increasingly mediated by technology. Opening with awhimsical sea-shanty that evokes some pre-war street accordionistplaying in a French harbor town, "The Writing on the Wall" inexplicablytransforms into a haunting piano dirge littered with atmosphericsamples. As ever, Edward is a storyteller, his lyrics spinning a yarnof a doomed man forced to walk the plank who, paradoxically, seemsendlessly amused by his fate. "Here Comes the Night" is a lengthy,sprawling ambient piece that follows the more abstract moments of Dark Side of the Moonto their logical conclusion: a majestic space-scape haunted by fragilepiano melodies and the ghostly transmissions of long-abandoneddeep-space probes. The blasted, distorted electro groove of "Comedown"is punctuated by handclaps and noisy throbs, Edward's spiralling vocalsevoking the terrors of infancy, pausing briefly to reference DavidLynch's Eraserhead. "Alms for Lepers" is more standard EKSfare: melancholic vocals filled with linguistic puns and odd metaphors,against a backdrop of spectral keyboards and deliberately syntheticdrum programming. The lengthy final track is a meticulouslyconstructed, multi-layered kosmische symphony of cyclical electronicpulses that build in hallucinogenic intensity before giving way to ascratchy, warbling old 78 spinning out fractured, kaleidescopicnostalgia which bobs out over the whitecaps and disappears from view.samples:
