When new sounds from Seefeel last came in, they sounded older than ever. Mark Clifford, Sarah Peacock and various collaborators had, for nearly two decades, distilled the watery shoegaze rave of early classics such as 1993 Quique in the mineral syrup of 1995 Helpnext year's chemical fumes (Ch-Vox) and then, finally, the brilliant and dried sediment of 2011 Seefeelso bright you had to squint. Up until that point, their grooves were more dust than dub. The timeless now of their long-lasting, great songs had faded into shaky memories and then into acts of remembrance, via exciting reissues in packages that felt like terminal digs.
Which it does All in a squarethe Seefeel mini-album of new recordings, such an unexpected joy. It's not just that Clifford has found a way back to the old ways, although, thankfully, he has. nor simply that there is still an audience for such efforts. The pleasure of this half hour lies in its optimism – in its belief that so much can be done with so little, yet.
“Lose the Minus,” for example, offers only the essentials: a simple bass tone that manages to defy gravity and track its effects. a whisper of melody. Peacock's voice, shimmering with a simple FX sheen. A guitar vibrates and then peaks. it's over It is enough. Although equally short, “End of Here” is its opposite, an exercise in fullness made of blur and decay. It's almost too much, then he leaves you alone.
Elsewhere, Clifford and Peacock are left to stretch. The mesmerizing “Hooked Paw” replaces the band's sonars with crunchy structural elements that drop into dense, bassy depths. Seefeel aren't exactly a funky band, but they swing more than they're given credit for. And with its scratchy, metallic frame, “Antiskeptic” reminds you that Seefeel's roots are as industrial as they are atmospheric. The warped beat is a kind of window through which the bright streaks of synths roll and scatter. Occasionally, trance chords flash like artificial lightning. The world building creates tension. Seefeel is early now it is done what will happen next?
Peacock's voice often answers this question. She belongs to the pantheon of singers – from peers like Slowdive's Rachel Goswell and My Bloody Valentine's Bilinda Butcher to contemporary wonders like Beach House's Victoria Legrand and more eaze and L'Rain and of course the prodigy Elizabeth Fraser – who find ways to sing. without always forming words. Instead, Peacock makes moments. In “Hooked Paw”, a murmur becomes a hall of mirrors. On opener 'Sky Hooks', her voice is the star, shining front and center in an arrangement of foggy bass, pads and throngs of noise and clanging that gather to form the track's climax before fading into echoes. Peacock offers navigation and, perhaps, even a kind of narrative to follow.
