january 2023
ATSUKO CHIBAWATER, IT FEELS LIKE IT’S GROWING
(Mothland)
Hard to believe Atsuko Chiba has been around for over a decade, considering I’d never laid ears upon their unique brand of psychedelic rock until just now. Water, It Feels Like It’s Growing, the Canadian band’s third proper full-length, is an epic collection of mostly long compositions that often plod along unless and until they quickly change direction. Fortunately, the album’s more repetitious moments engage the ears rather than tire them out.
The best example of this is “Seeds,” a steady hike up Atsuko Mountain that stops off at Wendy Carlos’ house just a few steps into the climb. “I’m losing control” is its early refrain, but it’s the restraints of the band during “Seeds” that mesmerize despite the musical ‘sameness’. At the 3:30 mark, the UFO appears and carries us the rest of the way up to string concerto heaven, that border rising up across you.
The opening track, “Sunbath,” doesn’t pull any punches, making quick and effective shifts from its Can-like meditative drone to tribal thunderclap, a charge led by bassist David Palumbo.
“Link” — the platter’s shortest song by a country mile, and one of its most lyrically affecting — raises the stakes of self-destruction via soaring synths and prog-rock rhythms. It’s worthy of a place alongside the finer works of The Mars Volta and The Mothers of Invention.
The secret weapon throughout the album’s latter half: wailing guitars that add texture and nuance in the high registers — a technique applied just as successfully by the likes of Sigur Ros, Mogwai, My Bloody Valentine, and Explosions In The Sky.
The title track closes with a stoner rock sway and some proper Sabbath-ey riffage, and some of the album’s more menacing musical moments even recall the finer works of grunge pioneers Alice In Chains. Vocalist Karim Lakhdar treads a more dream-pop line, lest we forget this is experimental hodgepodge at its finest.
Water is where traditional song structures go to die, as best exemplified on the disorienting “Shook (I’m Often),” while “So Much For” occasionally shakes free of its singular Volta charm (“Fucked up, I’m the culprit!”) to collapse inside a horn-laden groove. A near-flawless experience.
For years, my favorite band from Montreal was The Stills (RIP) but that all changed once I got a couple of spins into this one.
I’m fortunate that I.
