Water gurgles faintly in the background, and almost immediately a horn, maybe a soprano saxophone, but sounding perhaps like a clarinet (it’s gentle,  sustained low-notes make it difficult to distinguish), and a violin mimic each other’s haunting cries; soft white noise, perhaps a musician, restless, listing in his chair, or possibly just a water pump, spinning a miniature wheel, it’s cadence subtly setting the tone.  This sense of ambiguity and calm pervades much of the rest of the album, though the opener, “Letter to the Garden,” is without the bands defining element; its lead vocalist.  Another reviewer describes the band’s music as Burlesque Slowcore, which seems a fitting description for this ensemble from New York, whose third album, Nest of Machines, is filled with luscious instrumentation and stunning, despondent female-vocals.  It’s melancholia brings to mind Hrsta, and vocalist Julia Frodahl’s  vocals often recall Feist at her more somber moments. 

The band describes themselves as creating not just music, but also performance art.  This is difficult to judge from listening to their music alone, but I can believe it.  They list only three influences; a Polish classical composer, a Belgian-born, Argentinean who wrote experimental short stories in Paris, and a Canadian  novelist and poet. One would expect the lyrics to be opaque with such literary influences, however they are direct and sincere. Edison Woods have also scored performances and films, which isn’t surprising, as their music has a clear sense of mood and narrative and must lend itself easily to such projects.  

The ten songs on this album are defined by a sense of melancholia, and develop slowly, with a tender solemnity.  Reserved piano playing, placid strings, mild horns, and a calm voice carry the listener through an album that could  almost be pop, but for its timelessness and occasional eerie qualities.  Intermittently, Frodahl is joined by  male backing vocals, which adds some diversity to their sound, as does the various rhythmic elements, ranging from brushed drums to a waltz, which keeps the album from becoming too monotonous, a common pitfall for slow bands. 

I’d really like to hear what Frodahl could do if she would just give in to full abandon, pushing her voice to the limit.  We get few hints as to the potential for her voice, but Edison Woods isn’t the right vehicle for that, I suppose. I don’t think this is a band to strive for volume. 

-Joseph Sannicandro