ESP Summer – Mars Is A Ten

Disciples / R.A.T.S.

As a long-time fan of Warren Defever (His Name Is Alive) and Ian Masters of Pale Saints’ work as ESP Summer, this one-time pairing conceived way back in the late ’90s is something special, a criminally neglected obscurity full of transportative undercurrents that has finally been thrust back into the public consciousness.

A dreamy concoction penned in acoustic and electric guitar with some dazzling piano touchpoints, Mars Is A Ten‘s tracks seem to beam with an off-the-cuff straight to tape immediacy / intimacy that nestles in there; remains with you. A down-turned slipperiness whose slight of hand shimmers and hazy hooks seem to levitate on Ian’s surreal harmonics and elevate the loose-change sorcery of his words.

Mars Is A Ten is laid-back joy of an album that harbours a strange symbiotic sizzle, Ian’s spiralling thoughts angelically sparking a host of melodic nods and gently warped glints. Mutating colours that dance with the words, conjuring its own smeary definition of pop to give birth to the glucose glow of “Golden Heart Of The Year” or the time-travelling softness of “Simple Eye”, which hypnotically tugs at you like a sun-stroked Beach Boys.

A sound that untethers, ambers your thoughts in synaptic drifts of needled injectives and spidery nursery rhyme, especially the Spoonfed Hybrid sensibilities of the latter half that seem to concentrate the duo’s vision. Warren’s sonically sticky fingers are all over them, loosening their threads in bubbling bats and squally rubs, the shuffling subtleties that blur the languid twang of “Last Time Hand” or detach you from reality in the wordless spellbound of “Land Of 102°”. Then there’s the outlining of introspective piano on “More Water”, later transformed into the heart-breaking echo of “When Leaves Are Gone” that effortlessly grasps the tragic beauty of loss.

Mars Is A Ten is one of those albums that gently nods, seeps into your everyday to make it all that little bit lighter.

-Michael Rodham-Heaps-