It takes a rare skill to build an entire album out of a basis in loops yet keep everything from sounding stagnant and, well, repetitive. Raz Ohara and the Odd Orchestra achieve the feat with aplomb on II, their third album, the second for Germany’s Get Physical label.
It’s not completely clear who does what in the band, and I dare say there’s a fair amount of overlap in the various roles, but the trio consists of Raz himself with a background in soul and abstract dance music, Oliver Doerell with an ambientish DJing background and dabbler in electro-acoustic improv/song, and Tom Krimi, whose own work tends towards Beatlesque pop. This leaves the palette pretty much wide open and the group takes advantage of this. A typical track such as ‘Varsha’ or ‘The Day You Suffered Helpless Out Of Reach And All Lines Were Dead’ starts with a gently plucked acoustic guitar figure which is decorated with gentle percussion. Multitudes of layers are then added as the main guitar continues underneath – first the affected vocals, then synths, electronic glitches, muted horns and strings, always building. Each of these elements, when considered in isolation, are simple and repetitive, but the continual shifts in the layering have them ebb and flow in and out of focus, building to a mesmerising grandeur. At other times, such as on ‘Kingdom’, abstract tuned percussion loops with a gentle menace compounded by brooding bass, stretching out over 5 and a half minutes, again building in intensity without ever grabbing the release valve. One comparison that comes to mind is the idea of motorik being played in a diminished key, with drone replaced by flickering arpeggio and distortion replaced by scratched brass and strings.
Lyrically, Ohara sings with a depth borne of personal experience. 10 years ago his father, a freightship captain with whom Raz spent considerable time at sea, was killed in an Atlantic storm. This spectre still obviously hovers, both directly and indirectly. ‘The Day You Suffered Helpless Out Of Reach And All Lines Were Dead’ lays it all out in the title, while ‘Losing My Name’ begins “I know he’s with me/I’m barefoot/shouting, losing my name/my wagon is missing the trail/they’re calling/saying I’m lost on my way/they’re calling, but I’m losing my name/in the quicksand they hail an illusion”. Elsewhere, he more indirectly ponders the notions of uncertain faith and an afterlife.
II can, on the surface, seem a gentle album, but it draws you in and takes you on its journey. The amount of grit present can be overlooked if you’re not taking conscious notice, but it has the effect of throwing the elements of beauty into even starker contrast, highlighting them. This is excellent pop music – searching and exploratory yet captivating and memorable.
Adrian Elmer
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