A little bit of unravelling was necessary with this one as although the two ladies and two gents from Orbel are from France and indeed the PR blurb about this album was in French, the language adopted here for song-titles etc has been detected as Basque. Lur Hezea meaning Wet Earth apparently appears to be their second album and follow up to Hegan of 2019. Next thing to work out is where they fit in the grand scheme of things and we are informed that they have largely ditched previous post-rock leanings to present an album that “oscillates between tribal rhythms and funeral introspections, like an ancient pagan ritual.” Sounds intriguing!
There’s plenty here that reminds of other quite well-known acts as we trawl through the proffered 8 tracks. Musically it is quite minimalist at times with subtle electronica paving the way over songs such as ‘Orbain Irekiak’ (Open Scars). This has a bit of a slow trip-hop beat that conjures images of Portishead. Vocally it is down to one of the ladies to soothe with gentle beguiling tones which are instantly hypnotic and captivating. The ‘Ufada’ (Gust) that develops from this vocally at first reminds a little of Bjork. The instrumentation is a little more urgent with electronic drum rhythms like a heart monitor over some guitar squalls and some gorgeous choral chants and vocals rolling off the tongue. This is certainly an album of mysteries not easily defined and never allowing the listener to second guess what is coming. Vocals at times hit the higher range which has particular effect over the more normal dreamlike tones and on Heriozko Giltza (Death’s Key) babbles over mournful keyboards you can certainly appreciate the funeral introspection here and it’s a calm and graceful approach.
On the whole this is an ethereal and mellow affair, one to settle down and lounge around to its delicious vocal interplay and soothing slow metronomic pulse. There’s a real World Music like flow that would no doubt appeal to lovers of Dead Can Dance on’ Irentsi’ (Swallow) which vocally livens things up and adds that ritualistic vibe. However, ideas of where exactly it is coming from narratively will have to be thrown out the window by anyone watching the corresponding video on the group’s Bandcamp page. Slow burning torch song flavours ‘Okerra’ (Wrong) and the voice and music gently builds before awaking the listener from the arms of Morpheus with layers of guitar distortion.
There’s certainly plenty here to engross those who like dulcet tones and a feel of experimentation. By the time the urgent pulsating strobic effect of final number Gau Bate (One Night) lifts you one last time you may not be any clearer on Orbel’s strange and meditative world but you will certainly be absorbed by it.
(7.5/10 Pete Woods)
Leave a Reply