A strange beast indeed is the second album from The Books - who thankfully are far more imaginative than their name. The Lemon of Pink is like an imaginary sequel to DJ Shadow's Dark Days soundtrack, except the grimy tumescence of the NYC subway and its shady denizens have been replaced by a sublime (or ridiculous) parade of hoary buck-toothed fiddlers, six-toed banjo pickin Maybelles and shotgun totin’ moonshiners riding pickup truck-chariots - all viewed through the chillingly dappled Appalachian sunlight. Juxtaposed to this litany of hickdom are a subcontinentally-accented narrator, a muezzin's call to prayer and a minimalist chordal refrain - and all this in the first two minutes. Despite its sample-based origins, The Lemon of Pink manages to appear at once organic and refreshingly human - this is partly due to the proliference of vocal samples (including distant shouts, narration, singing, found artifacts and processed sections of sound) but is arguably primarily due to the fact that it eschews the palpably seductive impulse to use drumbeats as a sonic canvas. Though syncopations inherent in tunes such as ‘Take Time’ suggest possible drum patterns, they never appear. Though initially unsettling, this lends the album a uniquely airy and unfettered quality, and appears to allow the songs space to stretch and breathe. Though at times abstract and deceptively complex, the album and the tracks therein unfold in an elegantly natural manner - as though the songs were already in existence and were just waiting to be uncovered in some sonic archealogical dig.
DH
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