Crack opens with the kind of psychedelic rock that has seemingly existed since the dawn of time (or somewhere around 1972) in all corners of the known universe. Or perhaps Berlin in the case of Glen, a quartet who like to slather their effects on the guitar, bend and fluffle its strings and set the controls for the heart of whatever planet they are tripping to on this particular occasion.
With no track under six minutes and a couple peaking at a smidge over sixteen, Crack has plenty of room to sprawl comfortably, but without overstaying its back and forth welcome. Even though there’s plenty of Guru Guru-like martial drums and steady builds of guitar and bass on opener “Hit”, these can take so long to arrive that when they do — and inevitably start swinging their hefty groove — that they almost explode with anticipation and freak out in finely rocking style.
If that sounds like there are few surprises in store for the Desertfest-going stoner, head-nodding post-rocker or the kosmische afficionado, then there probably aren’t too many on Crack as such, but Glen do like to mix up and reorder influences and styles. There’s mellow runs and twin stereo guitar action that leaves a cheery feeling on side-by-side chanted vocals as the band hit their stride for “Go Boy”. Then there’s the long-form guitar-bass-drums circumlocutions of “D”, with its drop in, out and back into easy, dubby skank sections and soaring guitar solos that are just about heavy enough on the chorus pedal, making it an amiable and engaging construction that knows when enough is enough. The up-tempo rhythms and chirpy sking guitars that run along fluently while the title track’s spoken words of Eleni Ampelakiotou‘s story unwinds gradually and peripatetically. Her words eventually becomes absorbed into the by-now coruscating musical backdrop, while occasional interruptions prevent things from flowing too smoothly, Wilhlem Stegmeier quoting Leonard Cohen‘s lines about how “There’s a crack in everything / That’s how the light gets in” along the way. The duo exchange words again for the suitably energetic stop-start hi-hat-driven frissons of “Discothèque”, ranting about “Ice cubes in a plastic bag”, while the LP plays out in a frenzy of post-punkish chants of “Up, up, up and down” and further scripted dialogue about the recording of the album that takes Crack firmly into metatextual imaginary soundtrack territory.This variety allows Crack to switch in and out of different moods as the band let themselves play expansively, with a sense of widescreen dynamics and penchant for storytelling that are probably helped in their cinematic endeavours by both Stegmeier’s background in soundtrack composition and Ampelakiotou’s experiences as a film-maker. There may be few surprises here, but Glen play with gusto, and would undoubtedly make an entertaining live experience too.
-Antron S Meister-
Buy Crack here.
