For The Sea And Cake‘s eleventh album and the first since 2012’s Runner, the band has slimmed down to a three-piece following the departure of bassist Eric Claridge. I can find no obvious reason for his departure nor information as to who has taken over the bass playing duties, but regardless, the band’s sound is still that same unique mix of gossamer vocals, Caribbean-inflected guitar melodies and the extraordinary polyrhythmic drumming of John McEntire. Over ten tracks, the band are able once again to seduce us with this gentle concoction that although doesn’t stray too far from their usual remit, does enough to make it refreshing.
Opener “Cover The Mountain” has a sort of synthetic-sounding Massive Attack-like bassline, the kind that creeps in the background, sharing space with the shimmering guitar lines suspended in the shadows. At the forefront are the ever-spectacular drums, once again showing that McEntire is without doubt The Sea And Cake’s secret weapon. There is something gentle yet urgent about the rhythm, with fills thrown in just for the thrill of it ensuring that, rather like the second Tortoise album, the drumming draws you in. Sam Prekop‘s voice is as high and sweet as ever here on “I Should Care”, the impressionistic lyrics drifting in and out of earshot as a post-punk urgency takes hold. Due to the lightness of the vocals, though, it contains none of the usual stress and when the breakdown comes, it highlights the jazz influences of the guitar playing.
There is a departure of sorts on “Any Day”, which has double bass courtesy of eminent Chicagoan Nick Macri and clarinet from Paul van Mertens. There is something strangely wistful here, the warmth of the double bass adding a kind of gentle humanity allied to very simple drums. The song feels as though it wants to go in a country direction, but is unable to make up its mind — so instead hangs loose in a no man’s land that gives subtle clues as to how the band might sound if they ever did decide to play in a country style, or if they chose to use a double bass more regularly. An intriguing proposition that is lent even more dawn-breaking faded glamour by the melancholy clarinet that feels as though we are watching the rooftops of an unknown town, grey light gradually infusing the day with life.
It is very easy with The Sea And Cake to sit back and on first listen assume that it is business as usual; but here, after repeated listens and also listened to in conjunction with earlier records, it happily finds its place in their pantheon. The subtle power of the first few albums, particularly Nassau, is not so apparent here; the mid-period of One Bedroom and Car Alarm seemed a little more ethereal; and then the mysterious Moonlight Butterfly, that seemed as experimental as the band goes, was like some spectral dream.
On Any Day, the band have found contentment as a three-piece, with the strangely synthetic bass offering further subtle variations on a charming and well-loved band’s style. Maybe leaving it six years between albums also lends an air of expectation that I am pleased to say this album lives up to. Now that it has dropped, no doubt they will make their own mysterious and circuitous journey towards the next.-Mr Olivetti-
