A Closer Listen
Milan’s ten-strong post-rock collective Goodbye, Kings has just produced its finest document yet, a gorgeous two-track, 45-minute album that takes listeners on a literal journey; or in this case, two. Transatlantic // Transiberian is travel music in the finest sense of the word, in that the album reflects travel by sea and by rail, and is also music to accompany a trip – even if only a car ride.
While the timbre is post-rock, the construction is modern composition. Each side is a five-part suite, laden with brass, strings, keyboards and a variety of other instruments. “Transatlantic” builds from an ambient base, establishing a three-note brass motif that will slowly expand as the ship leaves the harbor and the magnificent vistas are encountered for the first time. The drums take a while to enter, and do so smoothly, first with rolls like the sea, then with hits like breakers crashing against the hull. The piano takes over at the seven-minute mark, operating as a lifeboat amid the surging guitars. When the brass returns, one speculates that this may be as high as the music can go; then, mid-piece, the piano leads the music into a temporary lull, like the evening rest in a calm patch of sea. The guitars stir as the passengers sleep. The low brass notes sound like foghorns, a comforting sound. The motors die, and all is quiet save for the sparkle and float. Just as the piano led the track into the trough, the acoustic guitar leads it out. Soon all the other players return, gathering on the deck to glimpse a sight of land.
Now one may flip the LP or the tape, or simply allow the CD or DL to play; the album is available in all four formats. The first few seconds imitate the clean chugging of a just-serviced train, while the horns signal, “All aboard!” The train is leaving the station, preparing for an entirely different sort of journey across the cold, snowy expanse of the Siberian landscape. It only takes two minutes for the pace to increase, the train quickly reaching travel speed. Images race by the windows in a blur of white and blue. The lead guitar is more leisurely, like a conversation between new companions. There’s a really neat segment in the seventh minute as the track slows down, the drums imitating the pistons, signaling that the train is about to make a stop. The passengers rise, looking forward to stretching their legs, perhaps grabbing a coffee or snack. The strings lead the disembarkment, and then the piano again, this time like an entertainer in the foyer of the station or the upper class car. In the distance, a bell is rung, a reminder that this stop will be brief. In the thirteenth minute, the pistons start chugging again, indicating the second leg of the journey. But unlike its predecessor, this journey settles into a long, slow denouement, quietly easing into the station.
Post-rock bands are often famous for their longest tracks, but few ever tackle tracks this long (23 and 22 minutes). By operating as a mini-orchestra, Goodbye, Kings makes it work, not once, but twice. For those stuck at work, unable to travel, this is the next best thing. (Richard Allen)
Thu May 22 00:01:05 GMT 2025