Label: Beta-Lactam Ring Records Format: 2LP,CD
As is only to be expected from someone who contributed so much to the classic Nineties Legendary Pink Dots guitar sound, Martijn de Kleer‘s So Close Yet So Far Out spreads out into psychedelic space as deep as the images from Hubble used on the cover art. Trippy is the word, and then some, though for the most part de Kleer shows admirable restraint when it comes to picking the guitar strings, a trait which has always been one of his greatest musical strengths. Instead of flicking excessively showy sparks off the neck, he lets the electricty blister and phase, as opener “New” demonstrates to a laid back groove of organ in absolutely Sixties/Nineties space cadet style. Even a track like “Jet Lag”, which weighs in with some stupendous Garage riffing before soaring straight for the moon is held in close touch, if not with reality then with the acceptible bounds of guitar heroics, letting rip for sure, but with the control and finesse of a master craftsman rather than a journeyman showing off what he’s just learned at the feet of Deep Purple or aping (instead expanding from) the eternal return of that Black Sabbath sound.
With the help of LPD alumni and associates Cevin Key and Ryan Moore on bass and drums respectively for much of the album, So Close Yet So Far Out swims in an easy sea of relaxing rhythms and de Kleer’s distant vocals which tend to sound as if he’s observing from on high. Nowhere is this better expressed on the disc than “The Time Has Come”, a scintillating piece of psychedelia of the hightest order, a lysergic tale of developments at a dinner party which brings in references to Oliver Hardy and heightened states of observational meanderings. Exulting in the drone of organ and dubbed-up effects is an instant classic which deserves its place on a repeated loop in the brain on first listen and then for weeks after. The Silverman also joins in the fun and drops a wobbly synth loop into the swirling “Delayed Chemistry”, another deceptively simple arrangement which washes around the head in true Kosmische Musik style.
The come down slinks into “What Happened To A Young Man In A Place Where He Turned To Water”, a storytelling excercise in reverb and rhythm of cloudy aspect and shimmering plangently to a crisp drum pattern and langorous bass from Messers. Key and Moore, the results (unsurprisingly) bearing a great deal of affinity with the trio’s work when they formed part of The Tear Garden – for better or worse. Likewise “You Are…” skips to a similar TG/LPD rhythm section while retaining enough of de Kleer’s personality in the deployment of deft feedback swirls and his blissed-out existential vocals. The real test comes with the final track “The Apple Crumble Trail”, a very full side-long epic (or a plain old 26 minutes on CD) of accreting layers of drones, environmental sounds, distended words and some played-out guitar work, which while never at all tedious becomes a track to work at surviving with sanity intact as the relentless layering of phased loops and washes of FX provoke queasy false memories of a descent into LSD chaos in crowded city streets with no refuge and no remorse. Still, those of a hectically-tripped disposition can at least attempt reaching for the stop controls if it all gets too much, and perhaps the album should contain a warning to include at least one person capable of rescuing any psychonautical audience from the outer limits of this one. In fact, de Kleer has already done so: “Prolonged listening may cause a certain level of intoxication” say the sleeve notes – listener beware! And dive in.
-Linus Tossio-
