Comments (0)

By Rudy Klapper, February 27, 2012 10:00 am

School of Seven Bells – Ghostory

Vagrant Records 2012

Rating: 8/10

The concept surrounding Ghostory is flimsy at best – the running narrative of a girl named Lafaye and all the ghosts that one would expect to surround a girl with such a Victorian name. The loss of Claudia Deheza robs School of Seven Bells of one of their most distinctive characteristics, the angelic, unearthly harmonizing between Claudia and twin sister Alejandra. Yet Ghostory, the band’s third record and their first as a duo, is uncommonly strong and surefooted, a remarkable transformation of their gossamer-thin dream pop into something vigorous and visceral. Where 2010’s lackluster Disconnect from Desire was all style and little substance, Ghostory is surprisingly forceful and direct in its message, one that melds almost seamlessly the sublime drone of My Bloody Valentine with the nostalgia of M83. It’s dreamy and hopelessly untethered from straightforward pop, like School of Seven Bells have always been, yet for the first time Ghostory sounds like the work of an organic, spontaneous band, rather than the determined sculptors of hypnotic, icy shoegaze they had seemed content to remain.

Ghostory carries with it connotations of magic and spirituality, and if there’s an ideal word to describe Alejandra Deheza’s vocals, a good place to start would be “otherworldly.” Hers is a voice that prefers to soar rather than coo, speeding along through a storm of synths or layering on top of itself many times over, a more ethereal Florence Welch or a druggier Natasha Khan. At times it seems fragile, like on the soft, sprawling “Reappear,” shimmering above waves of reverb, but that’s an illusion – Deheza has never sounded as confident yet so tempestuous, more in touch with what she’s singing than ever before. School of Seven Bells have always tended to focus on the trees rather than the forest – as a result, the music they crafted was, more often than not, opulent but uncomfortably empty, something beautiful that could be admired but never touched. Opener “The Night” swiftly puts that notion to sleep: “our meeting lit a fuse in my heart / devoured me, devoured me,” Deheza sings, and it’s lovely and airy, as she always is, yet there’s a passion and a sensuality here that has been hard to find with this band.

The music seems effortless, which is an accomplishment in itself given just how complicated School of Seven Bells makes things. There’s a veritable blizzard of effects here, washing tones out while they brighten others, coalescing in misty bursts of guitar and mesmerizing drum attacks, a steady, mutating bass line bubbling constantly underneath. Benjamin Curtis’ former work as a member of The Secret Machines informs every aspect of the production here – that space-rock trio specialized in widescreen, full surround sound operas, the proggiest of the prog. That love of expanse, of wide open sound filling every space and constant shifts into lulls and crescendos, is what defines Ghostory. Deheza’s vocals are the driving force, of course, but the way Curtis makes the music dive into your headphones – at points rolling to an ecstatic high on the frantic “White Wind,” at others reducing things to a narcotic lull on “Show Me Love” – is pure feeling. There’s a heavy goth influence on things here, even as sparkling and lush as the production gets, and the drone of Cocteau Twins and the haunting new wave of Siouxsie and the Banshees, not to mention the hazy landscapes of My Bloody Valentine, are much in evidence throughout. Atmosphere is the priority here, yet it’s a testament to Curtis’ work and Deheza’s renewed fire that the songs on Ghostory stand well enough on their own. “The Night” might be the best track the duo have penned to date, concise by their own standards yet voluminous in its sound, with a hook that is as compelling as any in the band’s catalog. “Lafaye,” meanwhile, is haunting and vaguely foreboding; its melody calls to mind Florence’s “What The Water Gave Me,” but its chorus and the unexpected tonal shift are, simply put, enchanting.

It’s hard to explain what kind of emotions these songs engender, and I can imagine it will be different for everyone – that’s the beauty of this kind of dreamy canvas, where the words are much less important than the spirit of the vocals and the nebulous music. There’s the general ghost story conceit, of course, but that’s as much a smokescreen as it is a real narrative. At times I hear Alejandra talking to her twin, and there’s loss and regret, while at others, most noticeably the triumphant closer “When You Sing,” there is a simple catharsis, the culmination of a relentless drum pattern and a blizzard of instruments, not the least of which is Deheza’s vocals spinning wondrously out into a psychedelic haze. It reminds me a bit of M83’s latest, where lyrics were second to the vital, intense feelings the music offered up. It’s also incredibly hard to pin down without resorting to an embarrassing array of adjectives and metaphors. Dream pop, goth, shoegaze – call it what you want, but what School of Seven Bells have ended up with is a genuinely gorgeous record by any standard.

School of Seven Bells – “Lafaye”

See larger image Ghostory (Audio CD) List Price: $10.99 USD New From: $8.76 In Stock Used from: $6.10 In Stock Release date February 28, 2012.

Comments (0)

By Rudy Klapper, July 13, 2010 3:00 pm

School of Seven Bells – Disconnect from Desire

Ghostly International 2010

Rating: 4/10

School of Seven Bells are kind of like that girl(s) at your high school who prided herself on her looks and demeanor above everything else, becoming such a monument to beauty and unrequited love that she was more an object to be discussed rather than interacted with. It never helped that more often than not these were the same girls whose looks were matched only by their prudishness and arrogance, and it’s these unfortunate characteristics that Benjamin Curtis (formerly of Secret Machines) and identical twin vocalists Alejandra and Claudia Deheza have adopted with their sophomore effort. Everything about Disconnect from Desire is painstakingly pristine, from its layered production to the Deheza’s dreamy vocals to even the title itself, which seems to reinforce the idea that, while this is undoubtedly beautiful music, it’s a beauty that nonetheless exists in a vacuum. The melodies are there, intricate stratums of shimmering harmonies and lilting lyrics that complement each other nicely; any sort of emotional feeling, however, is strangely absent.

Alpinisms was the sort of debut that treated the tired shoegaze genre with the eye of someone who normally spent his time writing space-rock epics – accordingly, it was a refreshing affair, one that combined odd tribal rhythms and theatrical choruses into something exciting. That novel sound has been completely stamped out here, Curtis instead seemingly content to pump up the synths like a bad M83 imitation and crank the vocoders and drum machines to the max. It makes what was probably intended to sound more like Kate Bush instead turn out like an ‘80s novelty group that grew up listening to only Stereolab records. At first, things are appropriately shoegaze-y and, like those girls at first look, unerringly gorgeous. “Windstorm” is the obvious highlight, really one of the few songs that surges ahead rather than relishing in its own glow. It’s also the only song under four minutes, a fact that only contributes to the feeling that one really feels the time start to pass as the record flows on, more than happy to stroll leisurely at its own pace thank you very much.

This album is lush; this album is impeccably produced; this album has two very potent female singers who know how to embellish each other. But something is missing in these hallowed halls of dream pop, where a crisp, hypnotic sound is more desirable than actual feeling. The constant stacking of effects, the intertwining of synths and melodies and vocals, combines for a wall of sound that is annoying on some songs and practically impenetrable on others. Alejandra and Claudia sound absolutely lovely on a song like “ILU” or “Dial,” but the problem is understanding what exactly they’re getting at under all those vocoder layers. As the record goes on and nothing seems to change, beside the odd jungle rhythm here (“Dust Devil”) or chintzy keyboard effect there (“Camarilla”), things blur and melt together, creating a morass of shoegaze that is as boring as it is interminable. Rarely is a song title as unfortunately accurate as Disconnect from Desire’s closer, “The Wait” – by the end of its nearly seven minutes of slow buildup, barely-there brush strokes and stately vocals, one could be forgiven for thinking the wait would never end. It’s a little sad, actually, as the amount of work that has clearly gone into the production of this album is impressive, but it’s like Curtis and the Deheza sisters would rather build a magnificent mansion with absolutely nothing inside it. All the window dressing in the world can’t hide what Disconnect from Desire is at its heart – icy, shallow and hopelessly empty.

School of Seven Bells – “Windstorm”

See larger image Disconnect From Desire (Dig) (Audio CD) List Price: $10.99 USD New From: $7.06 In Stock Used from: $4.99 In Stock Release date July 13, 2010.

Comments (0)

By Rudy Klapper, July 8, 2010 8:00 am

“Windstorm” is the opening track from School of Seven Bells‘ sophomore record, Disconnected From Desire, which drops next week. It’s spacey, 80s-influenced dream pop from Benjamin Curtis (formerly of space-rockers Secret Machines) and identical twins Alejandra and Claudia Deheza. Wispy female vocals, crisp melodies, ethereal sounds – pretty well-done dream pop, in other words. We’ll see how a whole album of it works out…

School of Seven Bells – “Windstorm”