It's great when a label releases something that is both equally unexpected and absolutely stellar. Diverging from the abstract noise and endless tonalities of most of the MT albums comes this absolutely addictive slice of midnight-loner-bedroom-pop, complete with interspersed segues of fragmented noise. This stuff brings to mind acts like Grouper and Californian doom folkers Flying Canyon (terribly unfortunate story with that band) but crafted into a distinct melancholy that is very much unlike anything I've ever heard. It all just works so well together and I can't get enough.
The Myspace page reveals a few micro edition releases on Cavelife records including what I can only presume is Inequipoise's other half, Equipoise, and also a couple of forthcoming titles. According to the site, Terrors is from W. Baltimore, Maryland. During a show in Denver earlier this summer, however, which you can listen to and download here, the main man behind Terrors -anyone know this guys name?- said he used to live in California and is now residing... nowhere. In trying to find out more information I've only been left more confused, funny really. The bedroom haze is somewhat lifted in the live setting but I recommend those tracks none the less.
Recorded in a window in February 2009.
The opener Inequipoise/Smoke Anyway immediately ropes you in with it's repetitive warbly keyboard melody and guitar parts. Another great use of the looped phrase surfaces on the final A side track Wrought Iron Door, definitely one of my two favourite tracks, with it's totally catchy guitar part (you'll know it when you hear it) and cave dwelling vocals. Not to mention the embedded emotion in the overall pace and tone. So beautiful, like weepingly beautiful. The B side starts with my other fave, the mellow-epic (not to be confused with mellow dramatic) Turn Out the Cradle. A lazily strummed guitar just floats there over the duration while the almost Jamie Stewart- (think Fast Car cover) like vocal delivery is haunting. And as the word "One" is uttered a mildly uplifting wave of energy takes control of the song and it's absolute gold from then on.
My favourite line, which has been stuck in my head for days now, "...burn their villages, ruin their spires, pull down their skyline with fire...Yours to control..." is simply perfect, as if he's describing an incident of the destruction of a beloved pastoral oil painting from his childhood. Flail Or Rust, with it's crumbling electronics sets us up for the closer Last Chance/FNB, an appropriate finale to this downward spiral of an album, the track eventually getting crushed under the emotional weight of the preceding songs in the form of a howling vortex of muted noise. Love it.