S. Carey – All We Grow

With the release of 2009′s Unmap (Volcano Choir) and this year’s Relayted (Gayngs) much has been said about where these projects sit in relation to both Justin Vernon and Bon Iver. It has become that little bit clearer now, with the release of S. Carey’s All We Grow, that in order to avoid any lingering concerns about repetition or plagiarism, it is best to consider what Nat Baldwin and Deradoorian are to Dirty Projectors – further insight into the unique worlds that the members of these bands simultaneously create and explore.

It is not often on All We Grow that a line conquers what acts as instrumental surface tension to make itself heard but rather than leaving the songs feeling unfinished, this recreates the effect of a half-remembered dream in which you are invited to fill in the blanks. The first case is in ‘Move’ – after an Apollo-esque Eno introduction and an acoustic guitar tone so bright you could almost pluck the soundwaves from in front of the speaker, we hear Carey’s resigned tone, “If I could run my fingers through your hair.” Whilst any concrete narrative is missing, it is impossible to escape the sentiments. It is almost meta on ‘In the Stream’ when Carey sings “I’ll be an architect / I’ll be in the stream” – whilst the songs feel crafted and structured, there is also a lack of consciousness to the way in which the album flows from track to track. That it is not to say the songs lack definition or melodic identity (e.g. ‘In the Dirt’s minimalist piano and loose handclaps sound almost poppy in contrast to the surrounding tracks) but merely that the feeling is consistent – the atmosphere that is so perfectly captured by the album’s grainy cover.

If this all still sounds a bit gooey, don’t be fooled – it is not a bedtime soundtrack and it is not background music. It may be beautiful, but it still has teeth. Melodies and harmonies that rise from sleepy drones, promises of calm that lead into dark, pounding beats (pounding in the sense of running on concrete or a fist on the door.) Teeth in the form of guitar tones that fall into you like they do on Spirit of Eden. Enough to pull back even the wandering minds of those of us with short attention spans, All We Grow is an escape from suburban life like Arcade Fire’s recent The Suburbs promised to be, just without the constant mentions of what it is we are struggling to escape from.