Pelican
City of Echoes
Hydra Head
Metalgaze kings Pelican built their sparkling new City on rock 'n' roll
The Fire in Our Throats Will Beckon the Thaw is to its successor as plain old fucking is to shipbuilding... for the band, that is. Pelican wisely refuse to repeat themselves on City of Echoes, trading a few grams each of Fire’s jizz and extreme dynamics for solid ounces of nuance, detail and manifest labor. Not that the Chicago-based quartet’s third full-length is any less dramatic than its predecessor, nor does it want for effects-drenched spectacle; it’s just clearly the product of an ensemble looking to distinguish itself from pedal-drunk peer group members. Why not do so with, uh, playing?
One of the band’s best tricks is showing off as discretely as any Impressionist painter or $1,000-an-hour ho. Guitarists Laurent Lebec and Trevor de Brauw take turns portraying Moby Dick’s bigger, happier cousin on the monstrously jubilant title track, trading fat dollops of melody like cetacean body fluids, then passing the whale suit to Bryan Herweg for one last glorious dip in the primal honeypot. The bassist claims the first stretch of spotlight on “Dead Between the Walls,” laying anxious, giant-caterpillar arabesques over brother Larry’s doomy, saurian stumblefunk. Lebec and de Brauw escalate the song’s orientalist bent, then, like ghostly eunuchs showing the new harem chick around, lead it through a succession of gently moonlit pools before handing the leash back to Herweg.
While both of the above offer ample evidence of the band’s metal roots, “Winds With Hands” and “A Delicate Sense of Balance” find Pelican poking their collective proboscis into hitherto unbroached hollows. Lebec and de Brauw tackle the former minus rhythm section, contrasting the lone acoustic guitar that dominates the song with distant pterodactyl mating calls. It’s the sort of thing Robert Johnson might be doing now (assuming the Devil is still supplying him with strings). Intimate, back-porch sludge closer “A Delicate Sense” inverts the band’s default drama queen stance, supplanting the standard grand finale with a quick smooch and a question mark. While diehard closure fairies are bound to be disappointed, it’s the smartest thing Pelican could have done. Instrumental guitar rock is a tough game, one where sitting on your laurels almost inevitably entails losing your ass. Fire was a mighty edifice indeed, but these fuckers are explorers; City of Echoes’ flurry of activity signals the beginning of an epic voyage. It’ll be great to hear what happens when they finally lose sight of land. —Rod Smith
