Ulrika Spacek - Modern English Decoration

The Quietus

DISCLAIMER – nothing that you will hear in London purveyors of swirling guitar ephemera Ulrika Spacek’s new album will be new to you. In fact, you probably will have heard many varying shades of the iridescent clamour that mirrors the ten tracks burning opaquely on Modern English Decoration elsewhere. But there is an inherent sun-down haze that permeates these tracks, complemented by the Victorian-era locale in which the album was recorded, that makes this an album that is difficult to shake, the skin-deep ethereal warmth seeping deeper, taking root, refusing to let go.

The five-piece haven’t wasted time between records, releasing Modern English Decoration a year after impressive opening gambit The Album Paranoia. But while their second recorded effort may not include the more serrated lashings that fleshed out its predecessor, these songs, having been forged in the fire of insecurity and adolescent abandon, have come out fully-formed, their wistful distorted wall of noise skillfully hiding a crystalline precision, their lackadaisical demeanour belying prodigal integrity.

Take the opening tracks, ‘Mimi Pretend’ and ‘Silvertonic’, for example. The way the guitars intertwine here is heavily reminiscent of either Television’s knack for lithe propulsion and melodic efficacy or Canadian band Women’s panache for measured nonchalance underscored by an untapped, surreptitious menace (sometimes both). The quieter breaks of the former song where lead Rhys Edwards breathily says “I can stay a little while” before a warbled cacophony of feedback is underpinned by a chugging rhythm, and the elongated motorik outro to the latter, smacks of Deerhunter and all its affiliate offshoots. These are likely to be oft-repeated comparisons, but they nevertheless are ones that echo expansively across the album.

Depending on where you stand, the album is incredibly consistent or consistently one-note – while each song has its own inherent DNA, and stand on their own, together it becomes a wash of motorik rhythms and distorted undulations that moves over you, a nebulous golden cloud. The one-two louche psychedelic punch of ‘Ziggy’ and ‘Everything, All The Time’ is augmented by the narcoleptic hush of Edwards’ warbled vocals, distorted enough to barely make out the syllables even at ebullient pitch. The slowed, ghosted, drunken, wah’ed out whimsy of the title track stands out due to its discretion – a harmonized dream in an iron lung – yet there is still a jagged jangled heartbeat within the wasted chagrin here that electrifies.

The imperfections of the record add to the charm – the dead air at the beginning of ‘Silvertonic’ picks up the distant peal of a police siren, a wry touch of real-world aestheticism in what is effectively an album of otherworldly “otherness”; the slow swirling hiss and warble opening and closing ‘Saw A Habit Forming’; a slightly flubbed tom at the beginning of ‘Ziggy.’ It all embodies a DIY charm that further entrances, somehow at odds yet embracing the tightness that pervades this effort.

It’s how the five members weave in and out of each other’s liminal spaces that imperceptibly makes these songs impossible to ignore. The frenetic guitar interplay between Edwards, Rhys Williams and Joseph Stone either creates a golden mist of psychedelic wash or a double-time metronome, meticulous maneuvers that hypnotize and enthrall. Ben White’s bass is especially seductive, often slinking in thirty seconds into a song, transforming an already active skeleton into a flowing beast. Callum Brown is ramshackle behind the kit, either shambling, marching or stop-motion lurching at the heels of the swirl. It can go from cosmic eddies and low-form concussions to economic post-punk (closer ‘Protestant Work Slump’ especially ringing out the Women understated unease bell) yet retains its own world dimensions. Everything comes fully formed and in its right place.

Modern English Decoration is an album that is made to listen to from start to finish, the sepia wash a constant inebriation where the slightest ripples, ebbs and flows offer the minute variations that hook you in and hold you under. There is nothing new here, nothing especially innovative either. It’s just an album that consistently hits its target in a magnetic, mesmerizing way, and one that if you let it will swallow you whole.

Share this article:

Drowned In Sound 70

Across London's various zone 2 and 3 boroughs, there are bands and creatives working tirelessly to do what they love in one of the world's most expensive cities. Ulrika Spacek, who live in a shared house and former art gallery space in Homerton are a perfect example of the many movements happening throughout the capital, in their case self-recording and producing in their house and setting up shows in whatever venue or space will have them. And the hard work shows. After their debut The Album Paranoia came out in early 2016, the band have garnered a reputation as a reputable live act and have gone from strength to strength as a creative unit.

Their follow up Modern English Decoration is the result of that dedication. While their debut had a tendency to be a little 'top-heavy', the band's second record is the five members working together as a unit creating a hypnotic, alluring sound driven by a tight rhythm section of Ben White (bass) and Callum Brown (drums) over-ridden by the interweaving guitars of Joseph Stone, Rhys Williams and frontman Rhys Edwards. While the band certainly wear their influences very firmly on their sleeve (Deerhunter, Sonic Youth, Can) they have still managed to craft an enchanting record which is ultimately theirs.

Opener 'Mimi Pretend' very much sets the tone of the album, building on a simple riff and rhythm and seeing how far they can stretch a song idea without ever getting over-indulgent. Ulrika Spacek has managed to find a balance between having an airy, "jam" vibe while still condensed into a "pop song". While this, along with Edwards' vocals and certain turns the band take in songs such as 'Silvertonic' makes the Bradford Cox comparisons somewhat inevitable, they still maintain enough of their own spin on proceedings to keep it from becoming a full-blown parody.

Meanwhile, lead single 'Everything, All The Time' takes on a more fuzzy affair as opposed to the reverb that drenches most of this record, switching more to a Preoccupations vibe. As a song, it plays with loud-quiet dynamics perhaps better than anywhere else on the record and is a testament to the band's songwriting abilities. The album's title-track offers a bit of a breather after the full pelt single, and as the record's quietest affair is a welcome break from the band's signature sound. Elsewhere, 'Saw a Habit Forming' blends specifically Nurse-era Sonic Youth in with their by now familiar sound.

If there is a criticism to be lobbied at Ulrika Spacek's follow-up record, it is simply that it does largely only have one setting. While the London quintet have crafted an excellent sound crossing dream-pop and krautrock, it is essentially a constantly driving piece with little to no respite over its 45 minutes. Modern English Decoration is brimming with confidence but not much variation. However, as by its nature, the album is great to just get lost into and drift away with, it achieves its primary mission with aplomb. This is a promising record from a still young UK band who have, with their second record, somewhat mastered their craft and it will be exciting to see where they go next with it.