Transatlantic noise laden mathgrind power trio Fawn Limbs are back with fresh material. What could they possibly have in store this time around? Their prolific catalogue reaches a true high point with their ninth release, Darwin Falls. Physically following in the footsteps of Sleeper Vessels, while aesthetically and spiritually in those of Thrum, Darwin Falls sees the band stepping into new and wilder realms. What’s more, the usual lineup is now accompanied by what amounts to basically a chamber orchestra of guest musicians. Seven musicians provide their input via cello, trombone, piano, Wurlitzer, mellotron, oboe, trumpet, viola, and saxophone. Sounds like one hell of a mouthful, right?
I honestly didn’t know what to expect, as I was leaping basically blindly into Darwin Falls. I’m not looking to over-hype this, nor undersell it, but I emerged on the other side of it as a different man. To say that it is merely a collection of songs, just another album, is reductive and insufficient. It’s one of those things that’s truly an experience, which could not be aptly quantified in any other medium than its original one. So, bear with me as I ensue with this almost pathetic attempt, at conjuring maybe even a fragment of what is being relayed through these tunes.
I’ve been following Fawn Limbs for a while now and I’ve seen the band being compared to a bunch of different artists – usually in the mathcore scene. Some of these comparisons partially make sense, but ultimately, they cut nowhere near the essence of the music. On their Bandcamp page, the band succinctly defines their hallmark blend as “Geometric Noise/Mathematical Chaos”. I guess that makes much more sense, but ultimately, it’s difficult to summarize something like this in just a few words.
While all of their releases tend to keep some kind of unifying thread between them, to varying degrees, they all stand apart as unique with their subtleties. Darwin Falls rises above all of these as something out of this world. Like some arcane beast, it traverses throughout errant electronics, noise, chamber music, darkjazz, mathgrind, and spoken word, plundering with nothing more than its momentary whim in mind. The end result is a compelling, monolithic, and genreless work of art, which takes more than just a fugitive listen to unravel its charm and secrets.
The lyrical component ends up being more in the spotlight than before and rightfully so considering how it is executed. The spoken word narration, of which I wasn’t initially a fan, as it wasn’t exactly giving me the musical kicks I need, in spite of Lee Fisher’s soothing, warm, and velvety voice; stands in a neat contrast with the wild and visceral screamed/growled vocals of Eeli Helin. This contrast is further complemented, as the two lyrical threads share the tonality of the voices that animate them. It all stands together as some sort of a multi-faceted dichotomy.
The story told ends up being as vague as it is precise – if that makes any sense. The action seems to revolve around human folly, the unpredictable nature of life, and the impartial, if sometimes dire consequences that emerge from these. While the screamed/growled parts are exactly as you would expect, based on my description above, the narrated parts hold most of the literary magic in a sense. The highly descriptive and evocative style, which seems to emphasize on immersion reminded me of Jack London’s stark and distinctive way of creating scenes. There’s something powerful and immediately palpable in both, is what I’m getting at ultimately.
About time we head into the tunes for real, no? As specified above, there are basically no stylistic bounds. Nothing is off the table as long as it can further enhance the final result. It’s the kind of conceptually uncompromising mindset that is missed so sorely from many bands – at least by me. In an overall manner of speaking, the record alternates between chaos and narration – put simply. The alternations are pretty much sequential so after a narrated segment comes an extreme segment and so on, usually while still in the same song. While this may appear like a simplistic and unplanned way of doing it, it really isn’t. The contrast drawn out like this definitely makes for a very engaging listen and creates a lot of intriguing dramatic tension. As you’ll get immersed in the narration adorned with sweet and languid brass lines at one moment, you will be rudely awakened by the visceral and unremitting assault of noise, guitars, screams, and percussive pummeling. Similarly, you will exit said assault and be lured back into a false sense of security, via the steady narration, across loosely layered textures.
With instrumentation so diverse, don’t think that you won’t have all of it showcased in a satisfying way. Each song is rife with aural boons that can barely wait to unleash themselves onto the listener. Honestly, it would be rather exhaustive, time consuming, and even a little annoying to just list time markers along with the composing layers of instrumentation. For a record that clocks in at thirty-five minutes it really packs a lot.
The present compositions manage to weave a tapestry in which it is quite easy to get lost. The experience is akin to a nightmare, a lucid dream, a wild LSD trip, and a fight for survival all spun together in a moment of brilliant insanity as one hulking mammoth which you must allow to ram you down.
Is there anything else I could possibly add? I think that virtually sums it up. Darwin Falls is almost a masterpiece. I wouldn’t dare yet call it a bona fide masterpiece, as there is still the matter of how will it age and be perceived in the future, as well as how will it stand next to future releases from the band, not to mention other albums in general. I will however confidently say that it should make some end of the year lists, it fully deserves such a spot. I know it made it to mine so, there’s that.
