You know how you drive or train through a cutting sometimes and can see the different layers of soil, clay, slate and other previous crusts of the earth. Some layers are only there a few seconds, most change thickness, approach and decline. They tell different stories, have different histories, served a different purpose from one other. One layer may entomb the remains of creatures long extinct, another could be ancient volcanic ash, perhaps that grey one there one was once a sea bed. Yet now they have the same history, serve the same purpose and tell the same story. This becomes more obvious as you leave the cutting and only see the surface, still aware of the layers beneath.
Music is a bit like that. A lot of it is designed so you see it from above the ground, perhaps a field of wheat swaying in the wind. You give no thought to the invisible layers that are there, even though the field of wheat wouldn’t be there without those layers. It’s two dimensional.
I think the more interesting music has a visible cross section. It’s three dimensional. You can see the layers underneath, but it does pose a problem – how do you show the layers without losing the big picture. How much do the music makers dare to expose of the layers and how contrasting do they dare make them?
So when I look at the view perched here in Collider’s treehouse, what do I see? Well, I can see the ground below, and I’m not sure if I feel safe up here, or whether I’d feel any safer down there. Because the ground is not some flat lawn, it’s perched on the edge of a deep crevice. At times it feels like the ground beneath is crumbling, and although the different layers hold together, you never feel quite sure. You wonder, if only you couldn’t see them, would you feel safe?
There’s no wasting time sliding into this song, setting the mood from the first notes of that bass line and the spasmodic flashes of electronics behind it. Drums are mechanical, sparse, and all they need to be while Bill Vine’s vocals flow over the top full of emotion and fragility. Yes there’s nods to Radiohead but it feels fresh like The Narrows and other emerging bands at the same time.
This song is addictive, haunting, compelling. It climbs into your brain, your heart, it flows through your blood to your extremities. It’s not two dimensional, it’s not even three dimensional. It’s one of those rare treats, those delicious morsels that comes along once in a while.
Go on, have a taste.
“Treehouse” is available now on bandcamp.
