Minor Victories - Minor Victories

Drowned In Sound 70

In the case of Minor Victories – a makes-sense natural fit of Rachel Goswell (Slowdive, Mojave 3), Stuart Braithwaite (Mogwai), Justin Lockey (Editors) and his brother and creative partner James – such potential barriers instead make strong foundations which prop up an arresting debut missive. As a typically deadpan Braithwaite teased in the run-up to the release, the email, text message and Skype-supported union of such sonically distinctive personnel holds little in the way of surprises outside of its genesis, and that’s just fine.

Minor Victories deploys a moody palette throughout, its soundscapes bathed in the established elements of its featured players, though there is room to breathe and the quartet duly take advantage. Stacked atop one another, opening declarations click neatly into place as the soundtrack to a smoke-soaked horror film where the soundtrack plays as important a role as an effective antagonist. ‘Give Up the Ghost’ is straightforward enough, an enjoyable crawl that need only display confidence and introduce tone, but by the time a John Carpenter-esque synth line, chasing strings and a game Goswell combine on ‘A Hundred Ropes’, the hooks have set in.

Goosebumps are often provoked during these ten songs with exploration key as dreamlike structures bloom. ‘Breaking My Light’ runs the risk of peaking too soon, giving away an awful lot in its first 90 seconds before settling into a focused and percussive march, but Goswell’s vocals hold everything neatly in place. Rarely not entirely compelling, her voice can act as conduit to the clouds above, this effect most perfectly realised as the gorgeous ‘Folk Arp’ swells to its glorious crescendo. The Big Kick-In is a cliché when dealing with this kind of atmosphere fare, but such rewards are not to be underestimated.

Guests arrive with pleasantries, but you won’t be begging them to stay. In between such delicate splendor, The Twilight Sad’s James Graham takes the lead on ‘Scattered Ashes (Song For Richard)’ which, while rousing enough, feels a touch out of place and eventually registers as a slighter cousin of Glasvegas’s ‘Geraldine’. Later, Mark Kozelek stops by on ‘For You Always’, ruminating in familiar matter-of-fact, information-overload fashion on his decades-long friendship with Goswell, who comes off strangely muted on a loose effort that quickly fades without a fuss.

‘Cogs’ is much more engaging, a constantly driving force of drums and sharp guitar lines and an ode to the snappier tropes of shoegaze that would greatly improve the ponderous assembly that was My Bloody Valentine’s comeback record were it parachuted onto that particular narrative. That notion of brevity might have served Minor Victories better as a whole. It’s refreshing to see a band keep it to just 10 tracks in an age where track listings feel increasingly bloated, but Minor Victories score major returns when saying a lot with a little.

As such, once the conclusion arrives you can’t help but feel that even further ruthlessness would have lent greater impact. ‘Out To Sea’ is a natural – and exceedingly graceful - cut-to-credits and so when ‘The Thief’ and ‘Higher Hopes’ draw the curtain closed, the mission is already dutifully accomplished. One feels a mite churlish to pick things apart in this manner, especially when presented with ambition and careful understatement, yet the very best drama should come at a cost. Minor Victories is a thoughtful and regal opening bow, but you’ll want for a little more teeth when Act Two comes into play.

Pitchfork 60

Minor Victories have wisely shied away from billing themselves as a supergroup, a term that implies a degree of star power they can’t quite deliver. They prefer the much more neutral descriptor “band.” Still, it’s impossible to separate the group from their other projects. Any band featuring Slowdive’s Rachel Goswell, Mogwai’s Stuart Braithwaite, and Editors guitarist Justin Lockey (along with his brother James) is going to carry certain expectations, and on their self-titled debut they live up to each and every one of them.

The album’s creation involved a lot of emailing back and forth between members before some of them had even met, sort of a Postal Service situation only with a lot more CC’s. “We didn’t record in the same room, or at the same time,” they write in the album’s liner notes, “to be honest we probably didn’t start off with the same vision.” Shared visions are irrelevant, though, when you have a lineup of players with such defined lanes. The album’s sound feels preordained: Slowdive’s sighing shoegaze, Mogwai’s cinematic wanderlust, and Editors’ gloomy riffage are all represented, and in more or less equal measure.

If there’s one thing all three of those bands have in common, it’s that you if you’re reading this site you probably know what they all sound like, but you probably can’t hum any of their songs off the top of your head. That’s not a knock; like a lot of acts from their respective scenes, those groups prioritized aesthetic statements over strong songwriting voices. That sonics-first mindset inevitably carries through Minor Victories, too. On opener “Give Up the Ghost,” Goswell sings broodingly about black roses and the blood surging through her veins, but it’s mostly an excuse for the song’s gothy ambiance, buzzsaw guitars, and moody orchestral accents. “A Hundred Ropes” and “Folk Arp” are even more sweeping, with even more dramatic string arrangements. Everybody in the group clearly knows their way around a studio, and the album rarely sounds less than superb.

What’s missing, though, is the central promise of a supergroup: the thrill of hearing established musicians in a truly different context. Minor Victories’ lineup may stem from different circles, but their approaches are so complementary that there’s rarely any tension or surprise. Unsurprisingly, then, the album’s most memorable tracks each introduce an X factor. Twilight Sad’s James Graham gamely duets with Goswell on “Scattered Ashes (Song for Richard),” a pop number with handclap drums and a blissfully fuzzy riff that imagines a Jesus and Mary Chain cover of “Dancing in the Dark.” Then, a couple of tracks later, Mark Kozelek joins her for what’s essentially a stowaway Sun Kil Moon song, “For You Always.”

It’s at once completely out of place, completely obnoxious, and completely welcome. Kozelek goes into full Benji overshare mode, rattling off a flood of dates and locations with almost obsessive, journalistic detail. “We met once in Los Angeles just around the time of the Columbine murders and Mojave 3 were playing on Sunset Boulevard at Tower Records…” he sings (well, sort of sings), recounting his 20-year friendship with Goswell and its periodic romantic undertones. For her verses, Goswell mirrors his wordy delivery, and though she can match neither the grace nor the clumsiness of his prose, it’s exciting to finally hear her outside her element. Like everything Kozelek has a hand in, it’ll drive some listeners absolutely nuts. But in one song he does what Minor Victories manages only intermittently: He makes a lasting impression.