“Sparkle in Grey do not sing, do not dance in public, do not have lyrics to hang up on teenage bedroom walls” - as opposed to concocting something to break the ice I thought I’d let the band speak for themselves. Late night phone conversations, tidal noise, plughole sound effects, sinister fairytale narratives, cassette rattle & childish burbling follows suit – the list goes on. A cornucopia of curios ironically backdrop A Quiet Place, and there’s a touch of musical finesse in there too. Originally a solo project which kicked off on the turn of the last decade, Sparkle numbered four members as of 2006. With a blend of soft electronics, a smattering of organic instrumentation peppered with field recordings they make for an interesting sound - a quirky portfolio of novelty noise & serene meditations that are quite pleasing to the ear if you will. With a back catalogue of nigh on a zillion remixes, collaborations & split releases they are a prolific bunch with a varied network of influences and alliances. In fact, their history is diffused with so many side-projects & co-operatives that I’m not really sure who they are or what took them so long to go it alone, but hey, they’re here, so pull up a chair.
None other than Giuseppe Ielasi (sometime TSB artist of the week and Top 50 chart tickler in 2007) has taken the controls on this latest outing in terms of recording, mixing, and mastering duties. Renowned for his trademark improvised sonorities, would we be forgiven for suggesting that perhaps osmosis played a part in the artistic process for SIG? The answer remains to be seen, but a fine chaperone nonetheless is at the wheel. Ielasi’s production is exceptionally vibrant, with each tap, twitch, fizz & groan exposed in pristine clarity and brought to the fore, accentuating the understated musical meanderings beautifully. The tone is proud yet pondering, serene yet never dull, with a sense of mystery evoked by the feather-touch musicianship. Melodies are softly coaxed to reveal themselves and rhythms are gently coerced into action, building with a slow pace then breaking away to a pause or unexpected flurry, swaggering to and fro in a pulsing electronic fizz interspersed with crests of organic lucidity.
Kicking off with “Limpronta” we are met by footsteps on gravel, fan-noise, tapping and anonymous shuffling. Followed by the sound of locks, bolts, chains, and a static-laden discourse on studio neurosis, an experimental mood is set, and our curiosity searches through the haze for answers. An urgent ride cymbal and oscillating hum brings us to the cusp of insanity and finally pauses on a heartbeat-style solitary drum. Ominous croaking (which reminds me of a breathing stoma) and rattlesnake percussion steals through the stillness, heralding guitar vibrato, violin, and the fulfilment of the opener in a dizzying array of sound. The final seconds sound like a dying wind-up toy, which sets the scene for the template hereafter - a nice opener, and I’m eager to see where they’re taking us.
Teased to life by a burgeoning drum beat, “Goose Game” is an infectious track and a personal favourite. With each addition the percussion grows to an electro-flecked pace as a jovial bass line rises out of the rumpus to tickle the listener's attention. Suddenly things dissipate, but return in a swelling tumult. Finally overthrown by guitar, the music takes on a new direction, but it’s a fantastic apex sounding like Björk’s “Human Behaviour” married to a drunken riff pilfered from Cream’s “Sunshine of Your Love”. Add a pinch of Black Rebel Motor Cycle Club’s lascivious guitar swaggering, and it’s an effortlessly nonchalant capstone to a great track.
With only six tracks in total we’re almost halfway through, but thus far things are intriguing and impressive. Things never get boring as pieces drift into each other like cloud formations, softly dissolving and becoming something new. At times subdued and speckled with electro-pulses and placid knockings, the music is nonetheless engaging as it pirouettes and lulls, pauses momentarily for a breath, then kicks off with aplomb, punching through the reverie to pursue another melody or direction decorated with sonic novelties. While never aggressively demanding your attention, when it does suck you in the intricate patchwork of nuances can be quite captivating - there’s an essence of charm that draws the listener in slowly. You could describe it collectively as a field recording project married to delicate melodies, interspersed with one or two moments of gusto and occasionally tangled in violin, but that wouldn’t give the release the credit it deserves. Treated with some laptop spoon-bending effects and interpolated with the genius of Ielasi I think we’ve got a contender on our hands here.
Sounding like an Epic45 outtake, “Techer Song” tinkles with all the daintiness of a snow-globe landscape, offering a short reprieve before we enter the moaning ‘Dagaboh’ sound-scape of “Pim in Delay” where things turn slightly sinister. Softly delayed guitar and dull throbs caressed by slivers of violin rise amongst synthetic murmurs and cassette shuffling, then gently overdriven guitar returns, along with vibrant percussion and wah flavourings as a sumptuous coda. This is another defining moment of the album, where the rock aesthetic is emphasised, rising above the twee musicianship of the other tracks. It fits in snugly all the same, with SIG proving themselves comfortable on many different playing fields. “Delusion Song” sounds like its namesake, with a disoriented violin and sprinkled notes drifting through a liquid haze, then all returns to rest once more in a "sleep that knits the ravelled sleeve of care". A Quiet Place comes to a close with a dainty musical jewellery-box tune suggestive of innocence and peacefulness, a return to a dreamlike state within the arms of stillness.
Replete with textured guitar flavourings and at one point the distant screams of tortured chipmunks, this album is best experienced alone and with a good set of headphones at high volume. Like a faulty pacemaker it lurches, stalls, slumbers, and strolls all at once, and would take a lot of effort to dislike. In all, it is a collection of tracks that is hard to collectively label; each return visit throws up a new filament to dissect, and within their layers a considered tapestry woven to a beautiful finish. Yet despite their detail, they remain soft velvet hues of unimposing sound distilled with excellent musicianship. Perhaps Ielasi has divined a spirit from within the music lost up to now, or mined threads which were unnoticed before his presence arrived? Whatever the case, it’s a step-up and hopefully a precursor for more to follow; I think it may be time to take notice.
-James Crossan