A Closer Listen
Has it really been ten years since the last album? In the interim, Lilacs & Champagne has grown from being an offshoot of Grails (sharing two founding members) to a mysterious entity with an extremely different sound. While spinning Fantasy World, one would be hard-pressed to make sonic connections to the post-rock parents. The raw cover art, drawing comparisons to the Mothers of Invention’s Weasels Ripped My Flesh, provides some indication that the album will offer uneasy listening.
Current single “Evil Has No Boundaries” is bound to prompt conversation. Centered around a repellant monologue from a “notorious metal band,” the piece raises questions about provocation and framing. Is this what the original concert goers expected to hear? In what spirit was it received? Did the women leave? Sitting smack dab in the center of the set, the track sticks out. Whether one likes, hates or tolerates the track, it’s impossible to ignore.
The rest of the album flows much more smoothly, although a sinister edge lurks always on the periphery. The album’s first sound, after all, is a groan. A guitar riff enters, stutters, loops; then a slowed-down vocal line. One might call Lilacs & Champagne plunderers or repurposers, but either way, their tape collages, augmented by live instrumentation, create entirely new juxtapositions.
Perhaps the largest difference between this album and others in its general category is that few of these samples are familiar; this prevents passages from jutting out. A more common technique is to layer passages that the common listener already knows, creating the excitement of recognition. Instead, Fantasy World sounds much more like composition, even when parts are stitched together. And what a monster it is: like stumbling upon an unpublished scores to a slasher film, a noir crime drama and a children’s TV program and deciding to play them all at once. Melodies bubble to the surface, then sink; a thick fog descends on the album, dissipating only for brief segments at a time. “Melissa” starts like a Hawaiian vacation, the band’s lounge roots excavated; but ends in ghostly, supernatural noises. “No More Sherry,” cleaning up after “Evil,” exudes a chill summer vibe.
As the album progresses, it sounds more and more like an unsettling reality hidden behind a suburban 70’s facade. This may be a Fantasy World, but it’s also dark and disturbing. Low level voices bubble in the background; tapes slow to sluggish tempos. This world of swirling shadows sounds nothing like Grails, but it feels like Grails; it’s hard to escape one’s DNA. (Richard Allen)
Thu Jul 18 00:01:10 GMT 2024