New Music From Landing, Young Guv
Landing
Bells in New Towns
(El Paraiso)
Celebrating its 20th anniversary, the Connecticut band Landing has released its latest full-length album, Bells in New Towns, with a diversity that makes this writer believe that the group has an impeccable record collection.
Certain earlier efforts had waded in blissed-out, gradually unfurling guitar and keyboard timbres, dipping its toes into shoegaze and spacey slowcore, but now, Landing seems free to step onto whatever path it desires while retaining a few key stylistic elements.
The striking opener “Nod” offers jagged-edged guitars and a fuzz bass, being a psychedelic rock sibling to My Bloody Valentine’s “You Made Me Realise” with its rhythmic tug; this feeling also comes through later on “Wait or Hide” with a driving sense of purpose and liberated electric guitar licks.
The momentum of “Bright” suggests the gingerly insistent propulsion of the German band Neu!—in particular, the guitar lines are perhaps a nod to the track “Hallogallo”—while multi-instrumentalist and vocalist Aaron Snow sings with a coolheadedness.
Acting as the musical equivalent of cinematic pillow shots, “Gravitational VII” and “Gravitational VIII” are ambient transitional tracks—the gently echoing keyboard notes, pulses and wind chimes of the former suggest a Brian Eno cleanse, while the latter’s kosmische abstractions lean more towards Popul Vuh and early Tangerine Dream.
Vocalist and keyboardist Adrienne Snow’s singing is whispery and delicate, perhaps like Claudine Longet on a chilly autumn morning, and she sings lead on “Trace,” a lithe acoustic diversion with a vague British prog-folk late-‘60s atmosphere.
This writer actually prefers when the band obscures its lyrics, since the vocals work better as an instrument rather than pushing any narrative.
At every turn, it seems like inspirational debts are being paid on Bells in New Towns; jaded listeners may not find it earthshaking, but for those familiar with the sources who can’t get enough of those vibes, the album offers easy pleasures within its carefully assembled, satisfying layers.
Young Guv
2 Sad 2 Funk
(Night School)
This writer regrets being so thrifty as a teen in the ‘80s and ‘90s when it came to VHS tapes—instead of setting up the VCR’s automatic timer to record MTV’s “120 Minutes” at midnight each Sunday, he would stay up and individually record only the music videos he liked—perhaps his entry into a lifelong habit of sleep deprivation in the name of music fandom.
However, another regret with this method only became evident years later when re-watching these tapes: skipping the television ads meant missing the serendipitous joys of such dated cultural artifacts of commercialism.
This all comes rushing back to mind when listening to the new ‘80s-obsessed mini-album 2 Sad 2 Funk from Young Guv, featuring normal-length songs interspersed with short fragments, including a Kentucky Fried Chicken commercial and part of a racy 1-900 number phone call, with an enticing voice asking for a credit card number to continue.
Young Guv is the project of Toronto musician Ben Cook, a member of higher profile acts including the hardcore punk bands F***d Up and No Warning, and for years, he released garage rock/punk under the moniker “Young Governor.” His name change to “Young Guv” perhaps reflects a shift to more nostalgic and sensual material, and his 2015 debut Ripe 4 Luv was a surprisingly fun and charming outing with outstanding takes on power-pop and new wave.
On 2 Sad 2 Funk, released on vinyl and as a digital download, Cook has made a cozy nest of ‘80s synth-pop, and the title track—hitting a comfort level that’s borderline vaporwave—channels the vibe of the Human League’s “Human” rather than any expected Prince-inspired funkiness. “Stand in the Way” is a dancey standout, with guitar slashes, synth bass lines and intertwining counterpoint.
About halfway through the album, this writer was wishing for a little more variation beyond the ‘80s fixation, and the album gradually gets weirder on its second half, with “Ain’t Fallin’ in Luv Again,” with drum machine beats and vocals that have been slightly lowered in pitch, giving the proceedings a hard-to-grasp uneasiness.
The album’s most oddball track is “Turn Down Day,” with a jaunty ‘60s-pop vibe but with synthetic vocoder vocals and a manic bumblebee-flight piano solo.
In the album’s progression, this writer keeps anticipating some kind of cathartic release then denouement that never quite comes—instead of offering some grand cycle or arc, it’s more like the uncertainty of watching music videos interspersed with commercials.