[rating=5.00]
Four years since Penny Sparkle, an album that seemed to shine about as much as a tarnished penny would itself, the 1990’s, Blonde Redhead has released their ninth album, Barragán. If Penny Sparkle knocked them down, then Barragán is Blonde Redhead limply tottering back to their feet. But instead of turning back the way they came, they forge ahead and try to mend the pitfalls of their previous album. They keep the soothing and haunting melodies that permeated Penny Sparkle but attempt to reintegrate some mystery and darkened mood back into their music.
Creating an atmosphere seems to be principal for Blonde Redhead. Every song is engulfed in echoes, of which the source can only be wondered at; there are clicks and creaks starting off, cutting through, and ending songs. The opening song and title track is just a montage of various sounds, as the chirping of birds is met with an acoustic guitar that’s so closely mic’d one can hear the soft screech of fingers sliding over strings. This effect is an abstract quaintness that sets the tone of the album to follow.
Slow rhythmic beats accentuate the gently sung, wispy vocals of Kazu Makino. On “No More Honey” her pretty, feminine voice is so wrapped in gauze and mist that the words almost disappear, leaving only the ethereal essence of the song before it is completely dissolved into noises. “Penultimo” is a chillwave duet that blends Makino’s ghostly whispers with Simone Pace’s slack utterances. It comes on strong with vocals that seem to trail on forever and fill the song with extra ambiance.
“Dripping” stands apart from the rest of the album. It is deeper— more sinister. Synth sounds are slipped in here and there and a steady beat is intersected by disembodied electronic sounds as Pace sings laxly overtop. It ends up being appealing while allowing the band to maintain their oddity and sounding similar to something Broken Social Scene might concoct.
At eight minutes and 47 seconds, “Mind to Be Had” may seem like an underdog, but as an improvisational guitar slides around over a locked in beat, the song develops into something beautifully hypnotic. It is both consistent and spontaneous. The feeling it evokes is one of freedom and confinement which makes it paradoxical and all the more captivating. About three minutes into the song Pace soars in and manages to find a perfect balance in this mellow trance of this blissful tragedy.
There are some songs on the album that don’t quite seem to hit their mark. The direction is there, but the result is rather redundant. “Cat on Tin Roof” chugs along sleepily and anticlimactically and “Defeatist Anthem (Harry and I)” sounds a bit as the title suggests it might. Blonde Redhead embrace electronic experimental layers this time around but they still seem to be missing that grunge edge that they started off with. Barragán is by all means, still a worthwhile listen, but it lacks the gusto of the band’s earlier works.
