Stars Of The Lid — “Requiem For Dying Mothers Pt. II” — The Tired Sounds Of Stars Of The Lid
I might’ve called it “Ocean In Three Acts,” what with that sea of processed cello waves and seamless transitions from one radiantly simple pattern to the next. That’d be a smidge too predictable for these patient oddballs, who actually titled one of their best pieces “December Hunting For Vegetarian Fuckface.” What matters is that we’ve got sheets of heartbreaking beauty on our hands. Outrageous to think anyone might listen to all seven and a half minutes of this on their laptop, but if you did, and listened carefully, you’d probably find yourself playing it again. Stars Of The Lid (think closed-eye hallucinations, drug abusers) have always been about drone and decay, and the formula yields all manner of welcome paradox here, not the least of which juxtaposes intimacy with the cosmic. Tones are pressed and just as quickly jettisoned into deep space, SOTL capturing that blessed moment when they curl out and escape. I especially enjoy the two junctures where the wave-form shifts, revealing a subtle new permutation, and trying to locate the single-iteration overlap where each is equal in the mix before the harmony dies off and gives way to the next shape. Such shifts are a linchpin of minimalist music that otherwise sounds highly repetitive, and production usually obscures that transition to unnerving effect. Yet while Glass and Reich are clangorous and flat, SOTL go for texture, slow that cyclical sort of composition to a crawl, and peel away the hard crystalline obfuscation—Jesus, I could kill myself for that phrase if Music For 18 Musicians didn’t paint me into such an unfortunate corner—to show us the elegance of nerve and sinew. The samples at the end are the subtlest overkill ever: a crying dog and what might be a ceramic ashtray hitting a table, as if a sick mother’s chain-smoking son and loyal pet together realized she’d just slipped away.
