At War With Walls & Mazes is a stunning debut wrung from classical precision and good old human gut-wrench. Son Lux"¢s first is a heady collection of songs breathing the same air and sharing the same space; painted from the same palette but set apart still-each is a distinct region of one broad, heaving sonic landscape. From afar, it"¢s an environment characterized by would-be contradictions: the austere grandness of chamber music undercut by undulating electronica; the intricately orchestral assembled via hip-hop collage; a day-plain pop ease silhouetted by deep soul. Up close, it"¢s clear that these contradictions are what hold the entire work together. The prologue begins with the warm quaver of harmonica and a cold, androgynous breath: "Put down all your weapons/Let me in through your open wounds." There"¢s a burst of drum, a piano hit that overwhelms the ears, and we"¢re on At War"¢s terra firma. First song "Break" is quiet and composed, punctuated by stabs of chaos-reversed instruments, errant electricity, an angry crowd-and given moody depth by the voice of Son Lux, which returns raw and whisper-pretty like Will Oldham"¢s. Next, "Weapons" flow in and out itself, building static, crystalline keys and thick bass into a pile of sharp edges that bounces like a rubber ball. An angelic cry breaks the rhythmic reverie and the snapping, cracking soundscape goes Richter. Conversely, "Betray" lays a slinky Portishead sulk for its bedrock, then morphs into a laidback, flute-textured upbeat. "Stay" counters this with a swarm of organ and violins, and a deep, unexpected blues. The picture is always shifting-songs starting on a blast or ending in a whirling climb, occasionally dwelling in a single mood, but never succumbing to traditional structure. There"¢s "Tell," which feels intimate, comprised of subtle tones, naked keys, low buzzing slide bass and voice sounding like a transmission from a tin-lined burrow. While the next plot over, "Wither" is a note-smashing hulk of machine crunch and skittering percussion, technically complex and seriously loud. Son Lux"¢s lyrics don't distract from the journey. Rather, the one and two-line snippets wind their way through the album"¢s space like mantras to be picked up or passed at will. In "Raise," a macabre poetry moves with the music, coming in dulcet over bleeding sax, then getting swept up by swirling strings and pulsing electro. On "Stand," a single unexplained sentence-"You stand between me and all my enemies"-is repeated ad infinitum, gaining in meaning even as it"¢s subducted under the piano-driven epic. As various permutations of voice, music and noise emerge, one imagines the Notwist"¢s Markus Acher lost in the bowels of Radiohead"¢s "Pyramid Song." This is a very good thing. After this undeniable apex, At War With Walls & Mazes approaches its quiet close. "War" is a sleepy overture to Son Lux"¢s wide embrace, glowing warm and full until white light gives way to the epilogue, and the album"¢s only outright motif: the "Weapons" melody, first heard with the prologue"¢s opening line. Then, Son Lux asked us to drop our weapons and let him in; now, leaving this place, his apparent plea seems much more like an invitation.
Terrorbird
