Music Reviews: Artist Archives
Songs Of Green Pheasant
Aerial Days
Those expecting Aerial Days to be a proper follow-up to Songs Of Green Pheasant’s self-titled 2005 debut might be somewhat disappointed. This EP is essentially a sort of clearinghouse for Duncan Sumpner (who records under the Songs… moniker with various collaborators), representing material that was recorded at various times between 2002 and 2005. It’s difficult to tell, exactly, which tracks were recorded when, or which tracks represent a more nascent version of Songs Of Green Pheasant, as all of the songs are wreathed in a lo-fi haze that purports naivete and rawness. Which, of course, is all part of the charm.
But there are certainly moments of unevenness throughout the EP, which does reveal that Sumpner was still figuring things out while recording these tracks. For example, the broken, distorted guitar that lurches forth in the final moments of “Remembering And Forgetting”, the extra-long denouement of “Stars Form Birds” (which sounds lovely in its own right but seems a bit awkward simply tacked onto the end of another track), or the meandering midsection of “Wintered”, which gets lost amidst whirling whistles and synths.
All that being said, however, Aerial Days is still full of tiny shimmering moments of beauty.
Songs Of Green Pheasant
Duncan Sumpner recorded the initial tracks that would result in Songs Of Green Pheasant during the summer of 2002 on a 4-track recorder in his kitchen. However, the result is not the sort of lo-fi recording experience that you might expect. Rather, Songs Of Green Pheasant is an atmospheric, “wide open spaces” sort of folk-influenced recording, one that touches on Nick Drake as much as it does Flying Saucer Attack’s pastoral phases and the sort of melancholy pop that Hood has been doing for years now.
Given that Songs Of Green Pheasant was recorded during the summer months, it’s not surprising that the disc is shot through with sounds of summers. Or rather, the sounds of summers long gone, sounds that have obtained a golden patina of nostalgia due to too many barely-there memories. The entire album is coated in a nostalgic haze made up of tape hiss, clicks, and buzzing.
While audiophiles might be sure to nitpick Sumpner’s recording methods to death, the imperfections serve only to elaborate the warmth and humanity throughout the album’s tracks (as is usually the case with these sorts of things).