Two maestros bump into each other on a crowded street. Their sheet music tumbles to the ground, and they each scurry to retrieve their own. The pages become mixed up. “You’ve got chamber music in my rock and roll!” says one. “You’ve got rock and roll in my chamber music!” says the other. But the world would have to wait to discover this new taste sensation.

The blend of rock and classical traditions is nothing new. In the late 1960’s, many rock musicians, from The Beatles to Led Zeppelin, used elements of classical composition in their productions. The 1970’s saw the movement co-opted by progressive rock artists, from the underground (Renaissance) to the mainstream (Kansas), while more grandiose statements were offered by artists such as Yes and Pink Floyd. Unfortunately, during this period, the gap between the two seemingly-compatible genres grew increasingly larger, presaging the day when classical music would be relegated to the back rooms of Tower Records. Classical “hits” were few and far between, and tended toward novelty:Switched On Bach (1968), A Fifth of Beethoven (1976), Rock Me Amadeus (1986). Violins and cellos were forced to do ungodly things in the service of commerce and cocaine, culminating in the infamous disco era, during which it became increasingly difficult to hear strings without thinking of John Travolta. 

The faux-chamber music of the new age movement further drove intelligent listeners away from the field of modern composition. When Gorecki’s Third Symphony became an avant-crossover hit in 1992, many praised the composer for borrowing ever-so-slightly from the structures – and certainly the marketing – of rock. And while some believed that this album would open the floodgates, drowning the wall between the rock and chamber genres as “Walk This Way” did for rock and rap, such a tumultuous event did not occur. The intervening years saw only intermittent popular interest in modern composition, notably the performances of John Tavener’s “Song for Athene” at Lady Di’s funeral in 1997 and Samuel Barber’s “Adagio for Strings” at the commemorative service for victims of the World Trade Center attacks in 2001.

The post-rock field offers what is arguably the best opportunity for cross-pollination, and even a cursory look at The Silent Ballet reveals a wide array of artists from across the musical spectrum inhabiting the same happy Internet space. But what is also apparent is that most of the artists represented huddle closer to one pole than the other: post-rock or chamber, jazz or ambient, metal or progressive. Only rarely do we encounter a group such as Strangers Die Every Day, who offer a blend so close to 50/50 that they are impossible to pigeonhole.Aperture for Departure is neither a post-rock album with chamber elements, nor a chamber album with post-rock elements; neither is it a synthesis that waters down each side. Instead, the album possesses a strange alchemy, akin to that of the new paramagnetic paint which changes apparent color through interaction with the refractive scale. Listening to the album is like listening to two albums at once in perfect synch, or watching “The Wizard of Oz” while playing Dark Side of the Moon. It shouldn't work, but it does, and its effect is stunning. 

Strangers Die Every Day achieves this seemingly effortless effect by virtue of an uncommon lineup: cello, violin, electric bass and drums. This lineup creates a cavernous space in which we would normally expect to find reverberating guitars; instead, each instrument has room to breathe, like trees in a professionally-culled forest. Listeners who are normally immersed in the field of post-rock may at first be fooled into thinking they do hear a guitar, buried in the mix, like a phantom limb. Repeated listens reveal that the fullness of sound is instead the result of vibrant composition.

There are many ways in which this album could have gone wrong. The music might have veered toward the overly-complex, losing the average listener, or the overly-simple, losing the informed listener. The blending of genres might have seemed either lackadaisical or forced. The band might have been content to be unique and neglected to bring tunes. But from pole to pole, Strangers Die Every Day walks the tightrope without falling. There is no way to tell where Aperture for Departure will fall in the pantheon of history, but if it garners enough listeners, it has the potential to become an extremely influential album, one that may finally fuse the relationship between the dominant musical genres of the past two centuries. 

-Richard Allen