Arms and Sleepers – Matador

Album Reviews • Wednesday December 9th, 2009 • 9:56 am

Calling Arms and Sleepers sophomore release, Matador, atmospheric is like calling the sky big or the ocean deep. It’s technically true, but means nothing, gives you no sense of scope. Calling it brooding gives it unnecessary baggage as it is beautiful in equal measures; still, the term would be accurate. Whatever you call it, you would, in some sense be doing it an injustice, as words are only signposts in the cloudy haze of music that is echoed in the vaguely V23 cloudy haze that adorns the cover.

“Orly” (like I said, words…) is an appropriate opening, a minute long piece of harmonic toning over fuzzed music box. It sets the tone and blends nicely with the piano that opens Matador. Crackles, as if from an old record give way to a slow trip hop rhythm and more toning. Layered electronic sounds weave through organic touches here and throughout the album. Vocals don’t start until about three minutes in, tinny and hazy, there is a distance communicated clearly as the singer muses, “you were a bird in a previous life.” The distance is elaborated in the male/female duet of “The Architekt.” The electronics are glitchy as they tend to be throughout. Songs of relationships can be cliché, but not in their hands. Pain, longing, and joy can be found in and between the vocals.

Tender is fine, but sometimes, as in “Twentynine Palms,” emotion starts as soft, unhurried piano and male/female harmony and surges into an instrumental post rock climax. Of course, emotion spent needs time to build again and the quiet “Helvetica” provides that as the distant singer muses, “you collide with all your past.” The music box returns at the end, underscoring the loneliness but also adding an element that is carried throughout the album, a compositional thread that is repeated with several other elements as well. Like its predecessor, it also becomes something that borders on post-rock instrumental, ending in a single, sustained note.

Sassy stick clicks and ghostly female vocals are layered over some future jazz keyboard, giving “The International” some cosmopolitan flair. Purely instrumental, it serves as a bridge to “Simone,” in which our singer lets us know he “ain’t to keen on playing games,” and then repeatedly sings “you know who you are,” as if we actually might. After a little bit the repetition gets old and ends just in time. “Kino” is another instrumental piece, more hopeful and upbeat, but still glitchy. Is that a synthesized oboe?

Serving as Matador’s reprise, the title, “Words Are for Sleeping” sums up the minute long piece. A piano, plucked bass, ghostly female toning, horn, and trip hop rhythm bring everything back together in “The Paramour,” a title that underscores the relationship aspect of the album. Still a little bit dark, the longing is gone, replaced with an acceptance.

Matador is, like the profession of its title, bold and unafraid. It’s also compositionally solid, weaving similar elements throughout yet shifting in mood, tempo, and style. And yes, atmospheric is an accurate word, both in its measure of the music, and as a description of the dichotomy between spaciousness of the sky and the sometimes oppressive pressure of the ocean, so eloquently and wordlessly communicated throughout the album and often echoed in our closest relationships.

Tagged as: electronic, post-rock