february 2023
HAMMOCK
LOVE IN THE VOID
(Hammock Music)
Whenever a colleague reveals that they enjoy ambient music of any sort, my standard follow-up is “Have you heard of Hammock?” It’s become akin to a reflex, music nerd shorthand. Friend: “I like a lot of amb…” Me: “HAMMOCK.”
Don’t ask me how I was first turned on to this Nashville-based duo cuz, son, I don’t remember. All I know is I’ve been listening - rather intently - since their debut, Kenotic. Back when making playlists on iTunes was a thing, a Hammock Sleep Mix was quickly constructed, alongside similar mixes of songs by M83, Sigur Ros, Moby and Enya (pipe down, Enya rules). Rarified air — and many an evening spent floating among the soft n fluffy audible clouds constructed by Mark Byrd and Andrew Thompson. Whether staring out at the sky or trying to catch a nap, Hammock is essential airplane music.
I own quite a few of Hammock’s albums and admittedly, nearly two decades in, it’s hard to differentiate one from the other. For me, Hammock is just one of those bands — the material is so uniformly solid that you can toss on 2010’s Longest Year or 2006’s Raising Your Voice…Trying to Stop an Echo and find yourself equally pleased with the results.
What makes their new record, Love In The Void, a standout is that it feels just a little darker, a little more intense. Perhaps its post-pandemic themes of yearning and frustration bring the songs closer to the void, but often times, the results feel more like a letting go than a lament. (don’t worry, lament fans — there’s lament here too)
Towards the end of the title track, the duo turn the distorted guitar up to Eleven, a cathartic coda that makes Love’s billing as Hammock’s ‘loudest album’ legit. The next song “UnTruth” quickly returns us to the heavens, the band’s trademark crisp acoustic guitar work and sweet-as-honey two-part harmonies aiding our ascent.
As usual, Hammock doesn’t skimp on the material, providing 13 mostly-instrumental songs that run well over an hour. This is not a complaint. Whether applying headphones so you can soar into the stratosphere unimpeded, or pressing ‘Play’, then stepping into the bathtub or the bedroom or onto a blanket in the grass, Hammock makes wonderful meditative company.
Hammock gets most aggressive on “Release,” a three minute grower enhanced by its accompanying video - a collage that proves that the band can amplify practically any visual moment, whether it’s horses galloping across the plains, a rocket exploding into space, or a young woman taking a shower. The album’s most pop-accessible track “Undoing” is notable for Christine Byrd’s ethereal backing vocals and its inward-facing “Do it to myself” refrain.
All the hallmarks are here - soaring crescendos awash in reverb, the steady tribal pulse of Jake Finch’s drumming (Hammock, can I steal your snare drum sound?), tinkly pianos that add gravitas to the album’s moments of quiet introspection. String orchestrations are provided by frequent collaborator Matt Kidd of Slow Meadow, another great ambient act signed to Hammock’s label.
It’s a fantastic collection of songs that “shout through and shatter the static of complacency.” Lay back, stare into the sun and enjoy your Hammock.
