Gary Jansz , Delusions of Adequacy, 15 October 2004

Pick of the Week

Tarentel has always been about the slow, steady, linear journey from points A to Z. The band has consistently mined this territory—between journey and destination, through the mechanics of traditional instrumentation. Having laid down this blueprint, starting with the debut release From Bone to Satellite, Tarentel has attempted, on subsequent albums, to wrest the clanking bones of experimentation from the closet, with at times muted results. With the blueprint and rulebook firmly tossed aside on We Move Through Weather, Tarentel has liberated itself and embraced an improvisational set of tools to deliver one of the bravest statements on record this year.

To anyone familiar with the Tarentel canon, the first striking difference is the reliance on percussion (courtesy of Sonna’s Jim Redd) and sound collage as the main vehicle driving this record, rather than a reliance on the chiming guitar coda’s the band is most known for. Freed from this linear structure, the road is no longer smoothly paved with the inevitability of safe arrival, but rather dotted along the way with sinuous curves and twists of adventure. In short, the songs on We Move Through Weather benefit greatly from the framework of improvisation rather than adherence to careful construction. As a result, the usual ascending and descending cruise control guitars are supplanted by dramatic immediacy rather than languid meanderings. This is most evident on the opening track “Hello, We Move Through Weather.” The song opens with a frenetically charged percussive tribal mantra that sounds like a pack of marauding elephants in pursuit of the hunted; it gives way finally to a moment of respite wherein violin drones and sparse guitar inflection takes over.

The fabulous 16-minute epic, “Get Away From Me You Clouds of Doom,” starts off with an Adrian Sherwood-like dub collision encountering Fly Pan Am on the way. This is one of several references to early 80s post-punk experimentalist’s like This Heat and 23 Skidoo. Another lengthy piece, “A Cloud No Bigger Than a Man’s Hand,” follows a Do Make Say Think drum pattern, keyboard washes, bass clarinet skronks, and a rare arpeggiated guitar appearance. Both of these epic pieces are the standouts on this album, if not for anything other than that they clearly embolden Tarentel’s willingness to stretch out and employ the free reign of groove and improvisation.

Throughout the record, the use of sound collage, home-made “tabletop” instruments, laptop, old reel-to-reel, and tape manipulation adds an impressive resonance and robust quality that is used judiciously and never impairs the overall impact of these songs. If Tarentel has delivered its most singular and impressive statement, it is because the band has succeeded in leaving behind any vestiges of a breadcrumb trail to past references, influences, and affiliations. We Move Through Weather is not unlike walking through an aural art gallery. Each artefact is created and presented with care, but it is also rooted in a story woven together by an overwhelming sense of liberation and tacit construction rather than prescribed guidelines. Altogether, this is an impressive, unique, and exhilarating experience that never lets up from start to finish. One of the year's finest records.

Cianan Delahunty, Halo-17, 28 October 2004

I think I have this whole post-rock thing worked out. You have to have a nondescript band name, a long and slightly literary album name, some sort of artistic cover artwork for your album, and a small collection of lengthy tracks on all of your releases. I'm basing this on the fact that all of the greatest post-rock albums fit this description, as does We Move Through Weather from Tarentel. Unfortunately for Tarentel though, their album sticks to the formula so tightly that it can't be regarded as a classic in its own right, and if all of the great experimental post-rock albums held a party, they probably wouldn't invite poor We Move Through Weather.

Listening to this record is like listening to a caricature of the whole genre. "Hello! We Move Through Weather" for instance, which opens with deafening percussion that slowly fades in from nothing, before a guitar is finally heard after about five minutes to bring the music to a somewhat more melodic place, is an approach typical of the genre. It's not that it's a particularly bad approach, and it's not even that Tarentel execute it particularly badly, it's just that it's been done already, and done better too.

Lovers of post-rock who can overlook the fact that this is basically a repeat of various offerings from Godspeed You Black Emperor! and Mono will probably find quite a bit to enjoy from this record. Bump Past, Cut Up Through Windows throws a piano into the mix with some slightly pleasing results, the song sounding much more optimistic and upbeat than the rest of the album, which seethes with gloom and menace. "Get Away From Me You Clouds Of Doom" is a particular example of the pessimism that permeates the album, with more than a quarter of an hour of feedback and noise that trades sheer volume in for atmosphere, reminiscent of Mogwai's "My Father, My King ".

There's nothing at all wrong with what Tarentel have offered on this release, but I can't help but crave something a bit more new and daring from this genre. I'm convinced that it's not quite mined out yet, but to reach that potential, we'll need bands who can take lead the field and take musical risks. Tarentel, on this release, show that they're more content just to follow the pack, rather than leading it. For dedicated fans of post-rock only.

Rating: 5 (Average)

Philip Stone, Splendid, 18 October 2004

Here's a litmus test to determine whether or not you'll enjoy We Move Through Weather: does it bother you when a song's first guitar lick appears after five minutes of thunderous drums (which initially crept into the mix so slowly that it took you a minute and a half of volume adjustments on your CD player before the song's full dynamic range revealed itself to you -- and even then, because the producer has pulled all the midrange and high end out of the mix, the drums sound like a gang of leprechauns tapping on your eardrum for a solid minute, or possibly a series of horrifying explosions heard from several miles away while you're wearing earmuffs in a blizzard) and droning strings? There's a good chance that most music fans will have a hard time digesting the album's epic soundscapes, as most pop songs written in the last forty-odd years can be played in their entirety twice in the amount of time it takes Tarentel to play two different notes. If you're the type of listener who will scan through these pieces desperately searching for a chorus, a bridge, a hook or even a voice, it's time to move on. But if you've sat through a Godspeed You! Black Emperor or Mono disc without the aid of a bong, well, then welcome home; you're in for a treat -- a slow, droning, moody and frightening treat.

Following the motifs established in opener "Hello! We Move through Weather!", drummer Jim Redd propels these songs forward at the pace of an electric summer storm, providing noises that are closer to acts of God than any recognizable rhythm. "Get Away from Me You Clouds of Doom" is a nearly twenty minute Old Testament horror story. Guitarists Jefre Cantu-Ledesma and Danny Grody prove you don't need volume or chops to wield a wrathful instrument; their six-strings rattle, wobble and feed back with such insanely appropriate improvisation that it leaves the realm of music and enters the world of nightmares. The introduction of the piano in "Bump Past, Cut Up through Windows" is the album's first and only ray of optimistic sunshine; the major chords sound more cheerful than usual in the context of these churning behemoths. This musical oasis is only a brief respite -- Redd's tribal drums and the drone of orchestral bowing eventually steals center stage from the piano, leading into an abrupt and jarring ending.

The piano reappears as a centerpiece in the meditative "We're the Only Ghosts Here". This time, however, the ivory keys sound more like something from a Kubrick film -- stark, repetitive and pessimistic, just like a rain storm.

We Move through Weather is a sonic marvel. It could be studied for its use of tone, theme, dynamics and patience. At the same time, these guys don't have shit on Sugar Ray or Smashmouth when it comes to writing a catchy hook. Thank God.

Keith Kawaii, Tiny Mix Tapes

Tarentel's latest, We Move Through Weather, begins with a clichéd rumble of static and low bass tones. You wouldn't be at fault for expecting a plucked guitar chord to lumber in and then hang around for the next 30 minutes; it's exactly what I was anticipating. Well, the aggressive burst of drums at around the 40 second mark proved me wrong. The addition of Jim Redd, pounding on his toms, has obviously changed some part of Tarentel's group dynamic. Redd's low, methodical marches create a different kind of ambient tension for the band, while simultaneously fulfilling the listeners primitive desire for a dense, tribal beat. And surprisingly, the kit is a mainstay, while the guitars take a backseat for most of the ride.

Now a trio, Tarentel's music has become surprisingly effortless, flowing naturally without seeming forced, only sometimes coming across monotonous. The long stretches of instrumental warbling are still in tact; a low distorted hum pulses through each track, but there is always the sense that something fresh is just around a corner, an attribute of unmistakable importance for an album as experimental and open as We Move Through Weather. And only when a thin piano chord chimes in (at the albums midway point) do you realize how devoid of harmony the last 30 minutes have been. Tarentel have succeeded at evoking surprise and unexpectedness from a standard piano figure. Congratulations. In the context of experimentalism, even the simplest addition of convention can have a monumental effect, an idea that Tarentel also seems ready to investigate.

As well as piano, the second half of We Move Through Weather introduces short passages of (what sounds like) clarinet, trumpet, and other odd, horn-like bursts. Most of the alternative instrumentation is restricted to "Everywhere The Damn Echo," a track that plots along for six minutes without a rhythm to tame its borderline atonal madness. This short (well, short by Tarentel's standards) break from tempo only enhances the drums affect on the proceeding cut. After an elongated build up, We Move Through Weather eventually cools down, allowing the first true melody to emerge in its final minutes. A simple piano line repeats at a casual pace, accompanied by slowly ascending waves of the aforementioned odd, horn-like sounds; except this time they come across like an orchestra, their rise and fall creating a rare moment of prettiness on a decidedly experimental album.

rating: 3.5/5