And the Glass Handed Kites

by

Mew

Edit

By way of the internet, I was introduced to Mew initially through text. I had never actually heard their music, but by way of some few positive reviews, a little desperation, and a leap of faith, I purchased "And the Glass Handed Kites." Since it found its way into my CD player, I have concluded that it is my favorite album of 2006. Several albums have competed for this title over the course of the past few months, not the least of which was Muse's "Black Holes and Revelations." While competition was fierce between these two, I can confidently say that Mew has been the winner.

This is not meant to degrade (the more visible) Muse's efforts. In fact, my comparison between the two bands is meant to encourage fans to research this important Danish band for themselves. Mew exudes an aesthetic that coolly reflects both passion and intelligence. Lyrically, "And the Glass Handed Kites" walks the line that divides the surreal and the personal. Sonically, they strongly reference the late 80s, as well as 2K and many points in between, but their approach is so experimental and somehow accessible that they ultimately transcend any of the genres that are associated with either of these eras. Is it possible to reconcile the seemingly divergent styles of New Order and The Mars Volta? Miraculously, Mew seems to find a way to.

Because of their ability to ride the fence between the accessible and the experimental, Mew has been increasingly accepted by the prog community. However, the bulk of their influences lie outside of the accepted prog mainstream - perhaps a touch of Yes, but very little Genesis, ELP, etc. Instead Mew openly cites among their influences the pre-alternative bands of the late 80's such as My Bloody Valentine. "Special" is particularly reminiscent of this era. This approach gives them a widely acceptable soundscape for their experimentation, and an admittedly exciting format for those of us who love the spirit of that music but are exhausted with over 40 years of recycled prog clichés. The opening track "Circuitry of the Wolf" is deceptively lo-fi, and fooled me into thinking that I had the newest incarnation of the late 90s sound that was represented by Hum. It quickly opens up, however, and as it seamlessly segues into "Chinaberry Tree", we find a significant sonic and conceptual depth. This is driven home by Jonas' Bjerre's vocals. His control of intonation in the falsetto range is nothing short of extraordinary.

The album is conceptual in nature, and as a result it is very difficult to recommend a singular track as a representation. As an introduction, I would suggest finding a way to listen to a seamlessly segued medley that includes everything from "Fox Cub" to "Zookeeper's Boy" (including "Apacalypso" and "Special"). There are other really great tunes on the album, but this sequence is one of my favorites and it exemplifies what "And the Glass Handed Kites" has to offer. Some songs function as vignettes and others as pivotal set pieces. When a piece is conceived of as an album-length whole ( as in the style of Kevin Gilbert's "The Shaming of the True", the Flower Kings' "Garden of Dreams", the Who's "Tommy", or several selections from Pink Floyd's classic 70s work), I think that this is a necessary concession to allow for accessibility. Understanding "And the Glass Handed Kites" as a whole might require more of the casual contemporary listener than is fair, so breaking the album up into isolated tracks is probably essential to digesting its complexity.

Increasingly, I find myself researching modern music by looking for live video footage online. Many times, if I find some footage that really helps me to conceptualize a given band's approach, it helps me to understand their vision (this was influential in my acceptance of both Muse and Pure Reason Revolution). Pretty much 100% of the footage I have found of Mew has impressed me. I would suggest doing some searches, as there is quite a bit of Mew footage available. Watching lead vocalist Jonas Bjerre's eyes roll back into his head as the rest of the band alternates between aggressive grooves and emotional atmospheres is absolutely priceless.

The Lowdown: The atmosphere that Mew creates is almost sonically overwhelming at times. As I have stated in my previous King Crimson reviews, sometimes it feels like I just cannot experience the songs at a high enough volume, and I feel like I am reaching out for the connection that can only happen in a live performance. In a recent interview, Yes' Rick Wakeman lauded Mew's ability as a band that could "really play," specifically citing the vocal prowess of Bjerre. After several months, I concur: Wakeman's observations are valid and his advice is solid. Mew is a powerfully unique band that deserves wide attention. Plus, its distinctively Nordic feel makes rocking out in the winter seem like fun. Get it yesterday.

The Danish quartet Mew may yet be onto something potentially great. Certainly, "And the Glass Handed Kites" offers many transcendent moments when the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. In those moments, the soaring vocal choruses, guitar riffs, rippling bass, and pumped up percussion break through a cloying veneer of overproduction and nagging strings.

Mew seems to be walking a tightrope, part power, part emo, but the strength of the songs and performances win out. Singer Jonas Bjerre, guitarist Bo Madsen, bassist Johan Wohlert, and drummer Silas Graae still have plenty of time to hook up with some producer such as Brian Eno or Daniel Lanois who could shift them to the next level, diminish the strings, and focus on the core elements that drive the sound.

If you are like me, the awful CD booklet with an unreadable italic san-serif type and poorly rendered artwork does little to tempt the curious. Let's hope for improvements on Mew's next release.