Rating: * * * *
From a guy who used to make people dance, in a cosmic and swooning style, rather than a boogie woogie way, to someone who inspires us to stand perfectly still and, sway gently. That's the transition Wellington electronica producer and musician Rhian Sheehan
makes on his third album, Standing In Silence.
And what a stunningly static, beautifully textured, and at times, brittle listening experience it is.
Divided into parts 1 to 14 it plays out more like an artwork than an album. Initially, it might come across as idle drifts and ambient meanderings but on sucessive listens some magical charms are revealed, like found sounds from around the world (including an airport announcement on 8), and most cleverly, his daughter's music box.
Sheehan uses a lot of guitar this time round, played by Jeff Boyle from sonic instrumentalists Jakob, but it is virtually impossible to pick out a single strum, pluck or riff. The glitchy pitter patter of 2 has a playful, whimsy to it, and 3 conjures up that deliciously delirious state you wake up in after falling asleep in the late afternoon sun.
The first signs of a more staunch and cutting sound comes in 5, with heavy chinking bells; then 6 gives way to gentle glitches, chimes, and the first beats are ignited; and 8 erupts into a maelstrom of noise. But from then on the album settles back into a more even-tempered mood, with swooning strings, unravelling drones, and 12 brings together melancholic piano, eerie synth, and cheeping birds.
The album is also a multi-media experience, with an art exhibition made up of a film, photographs and music, on at Auckland's Moving Image Centre on K'Rd which ends today.
This is an album for fans of Sigur Ros or Boards of Canada. And, hate to disagree with its creator, but not so much music to stand in silence to, more like music to laze in a hammock to. Or, perhaps to lounge on a comfy couch with as it devours and envelops you.
Scott Kara
