It must be hard to shroud yourself in mystery in the 21st Century. The internet, for all it's amazement and wonder, has made it increasingly difficult to hide oneself. A few acts have managed, but only until, like Burial, the pressure to reveal yourself as something real has taken it's toll. Searching the internet for any information about Zelienople, the project of Matt Christensen, throws up very little; a lovely little website and (oddly) a Myspace page. But all this is merely functional - there's no background, no filler - only dark, coarse sketches of a life.It shouldn't, and of course, doesn't, make a difference. The music is what really matters, and Give It Up is testimony to that. This dark, brooding and sinister album would make a perfect companion piece to Mark Hollis' (Talk Talk) self-titled solo album. It would, of course, be it's darker, eviller, twin. But, nevertheless, it would complement Hollis' experiment with popular sounds and free-form musical expression. Opening track 'Aging' is the sound of a great, giant Oak tree growing in the dark confines of a forest. The instruments are dusty, the music aches from their every fibre, Christensen's voice a muffled echo. 'Can't Stop' shuffles more light into this crowded undergrowth of sound. There's the noise of wildlife, running water and the most gorgeous piano refrain percolating through, exciting the senses. The vocals are once again muffled, and barely audible, but they actually hint and some kind of optimism. Which is quite rare on this record. Even the album title itself, Give It Up, is dark, fractured and there's a feeling of hopelessness that prevails. This is an album to echo the cold, dark evenings of the winter. The instruments sound deep, the rhythms guttural and monastic.As each piece of music flows into the next, your emotional core is challenged. 'Water Saw' resonates to circular noises, the sound of a life slowly disappearing down a hole. The almost religious echo of the organ used is like a call to forgive and "Give It Up" - submit and lose yourself to the external pressures of your life. Stop fighting and embrace the darkness. Limited editions of this album come with a free CD that's the soundtrack to Donald Prokop's film 'Gone', which sounds like another dark, brooding film of despair and the link between the two is quite easy to see.And yet... and yet... there are beacons of light in the darkness. 'I Can Put All My Faith In Her' wouldn't have sounded out of place on Talk Talk's Colour of Spring - the rippling guitar riff and watery rhythms hint at an optimistic future, an anchor of hope in the cruel tides of despair. But, no sooner do you get lifted, your dragged back under with 'Little Little Eye-Full'. The previous rhythms replaced with a metallic rapture and low level drone. Christensen's vocals at his most prevalent, but still mumbled and full of hurt. 'Flurry' and 'All Planned' finished the album off in similar style, slowing the pace down but picking more subtle rhythms off which the rest of the songs hang, precariously and delicately.For some, this might be a little too much to take in one sitting. But, for those that can embrace the darkness and hold it close without getting too disturbed, then this is an album of dark and hidden beauty.

Buy the album on Boomkat