Every time Japanese post-rock ensemble Mono announce a new album, I feel a warm glow all over me. A band that can just do no wrong, their music is always heavy on the emotion, and they always bring incredible light and shade to their stunning compositions. For that is what they create. Studio album number thirteen, entitled Snowdrop, is different though. This is their first album since the sad passing of production partner and friend, Steve Albini. The band were worried how the record would turn out, having such a rapport with a man who was essentially the fifth member of the band. So, they enlisted Brad Wood (Touché Amoré, The Smashing Pumpkins) and recorded the album at Electrical Audio Studio to maintain a semblance of continuity.
Opener ‘Snowdrop’ instantly hits you in the feels with some melancholic piano and trembling guitars. Tamaki Kunishi’s bass hum is the bedrock to the moving melodic guitars as the track layers up in complexity. Having experienced the noise these folks can generate up close and personal, when ‘Snowdrop’ erupts into a full-blown blizzard of sound it’s captivating. ‘Winter Daphne’ wastes no time getting to the speaker rattling part with a searing guitar working your brain like a buzzsaw cutting through wood. Soaring strings (from orchestral musical director Chad McCullough and a 10-piece orchestra) bolster the cacophony with pomp and majesty. The beautiful passage of calm that opens up brings a gentle serenity, listen closely and there’s a ghostly whoosh in the background. Wondrous detail.
‘Gerbera’ has a cyclical string loop that reminds me of Sigur Rós as Dahm Majuri Cipolla pounds the toms. A heavenly choir hovers in the mix adding to the grandeur. Striding forth on a wave of noise and melodic tangents, the climactic finale is full of euphoria. ‘Statice’ pulls in a ghostly vocal line that floats in the mix adding a new dynamic to the Mono sound. In full flow the music here is sublime, as beautiful strings fuse with the swell of distorted guitars, Mono always manage to confound this listener. ‘Hedera’ has such an emotional wave of sorrow, like ‘Sabbath’ as Takaakira Goto and Hideki Suematsu’s guitars quiver like a kite in the sky. Perfectly scored, the track ebbs and flows taking the listener on a voyage to blissful realms.
‘Shion’ glides in with some delicate shimmering loops, the moment when Tamaki’s bass drops brings a warmth and depth. So many layers to unpick, as the 8-piece choir brings another colourful dimension to the Mono palette. The wondrously named ‘Bells of Ireland’ opens with chiming bells over a static hum, like a crackly old vinyl. When the strings begin, you sense this one is going to be a heartbreaker, it absolutely drips with melancholy. The piano and string arrangements are astonishing, and the track feels like a piece from a classic composer. Imagine playing this staring out to the sea on a windswept winter’s day. As it winds to a close, the bells re-appear and the track completely twists to something bright and euphoric. Pure magic, how did they do that?!
The beautiful ‘Farewell to Spring’ begins with some intricately layered loops that glimmer in the darkness. All of the elements of sound that make up this captivating album rise up to create a powerful drone. The atmospheric is one of triumph and hope, it’s almost like some sort of cathartic release for Mono, as their fears of recording without their friend are pushed aside. From the mixing booth, the ghostly image of Steve Albini looks on, as the final piano tones close this remarkable record. He gives a nod of approval…
