Oscillating Forest is the third of altogether four full-length albums by Australians Tangled Thoughts of Leaving that I have reviewed. Having also seen them live once, one could say that I’m well familiar with the band and their output. Their jazzy post rock, featuring piano and sometimes brass, had from the beginning been characterized by a strong experimental streak, had always been somewhat challenging, a bit pretentious, too, requiring your undivided attention and a willingness to engage with it in order to make sense of it.
I had liked it nevertheless. Their last studio album No Tether was one on my favourite albums of 2018. Up until now, their musical chaos had always included a red thread leading you through it; more experimental passages had usually been interwoven with more structured, repetitive ones. There had been a sense of purpose, a direction.
On the band’s new album Oscillating Forest this is no longer the case. The above-mentioned compositional and structural elements that had made the band’s music enjoyable and listenable despite its complexity are no longer present, or at least not in the same degree. And that makes long stretches of this album an ordeal to listen to. Intended or not, it’s an ordeal all the same.
One could argue that opposing challenges are just a sign of narrowmindedness and laziness on the part of the listener. Sure, could be, but I assure you, that this is not the case here. There is only so much incoherent, experimental noise that a listener can take – especially if you see no purpose or direction. The fact that the album’s playing time sums up to slightly over an hour doesn’t help either. I’ve listened to the album several times in its entirety, getting more annoyed with every run through.
The press info says that Oscillating Forest is “inspired by the sounds, intensity, emotion and life-cycles of the bush of the south-west of Australia”, that it is “a reconstruction of the harsh and varied landscape in audio form”, and that “the textures and tones captured here oscillate, pulse and modulate in a way that is not linear, predictable or safe”. OK, so far, I follow.
I remember hiking through European hills and forests a few years ago with a group that included someone from South Africa. At one point, our group, tired from walking, stopped and sat down on a clearing for a break and a snack. None of us had investigated the terrain, no one had thought about possible dangers. Apart from getting lost, running out of water or getting heat stroke there possibly were none. Our actions were completely unremarkable to the majority of us. Not so to the person from South Africa. In his homeland, he said, walking in the wilderness and sitting down on a random spot on the ground was unthinkable. There were things that could sting you, bite you, or kill you. You always had to be on the lookout.
The Australian bush, I reckon, is similar. It makes sense, therefore, that TToL start their new bush-themed album with a track titled Sudden Peril, because possible dangers have to be at the forefront of your mind when you step into this kind of environment. And the track certainly includes a few jump scares. Ghost Albatross, the following piece, is perhaps the most similar to former output and would have fit onto one of the previous albums as well. But from there onwards improvisation takes over and things get out of hand. And especially the final track Oscillating Forest gnaws on your nerves.
The band is aware of the shift in sound and apparently happy with it. It stems from a change in chemistry and cohesion, they say, since the band has undergone line-up changes over the years and the current line-up is pushing further down the path of improvisation. Will the fans follow? Maybe they will. I know I won’t.
Sure, in nature, change is a constant. But a landscape, unless it is subject to exceptional, violent change, like earthquakes or fire, still remains recognizable over long periods time and is formed according to rules. Rules govern the apparent chaos. Nature-themed improv should take that into account. I cannot help but suspect a bit of laziness and pretentiousness in this album of which “large swathes were recorded live” and improvised. That’s why I give
(3/10 Slavica)
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