Every so often, in the musically bombarded world that I inhabit, a release comes along that is so distinctly itself that it immediately worms its way into my synapses. That’s no mean feat, as there is a good twenty-plus years of random musical-related stuff in my brain that needs to be pushed out of the way to make room. Silver is one of those rare albums, recognizable from certain angles, yet the confluence of the sounds contained within is breathtakingly unique. The words “Slow Burn” somehow lodged in there as well. Charles-Eric Charrier and his able cohorts have created an album that radiates a searing intensity without having to lose the listener in a cacophony, or resort to rockist tropes to get the point across. Silver is music for the soul, without coming across all tie-dyed. Psychedelic in intent whilst maintaining a firm grip on reality, and that’s a mean feat indeed.
“21 Echoes Short” drips with a blues-inflected emotionality from the first bar. Charles-Eric’s guitar is somehow both on tenterhooks and laid-back at the same time. Ronan Benoit and Cyril Secq both compliment the guitar, magisterially providing a sumptuous rhythmic backdrop. There are snippets of Post-rock, Indie, Jazz and Blues throughout, yet when a magnifying glass is applied, all that is apparent is Silver, if you get my drift. The beginning of “6 I” sounds like Guapo and Mogwai trading licks before some strange, mistranslated medieval madrigal played by the mutant offspring of Derek Bailey and John Fahey asserts itself. “9 Moving” slides straight out of this unique love-match, the fingerpicking continuum drawn out into a hypnotic and stately reverie. There are echoes of Boston’s finest, Cul de Sac, and the Idyll Swords in this nocturnal paean to the creative spirit. As this piece unfolds, a vaguely eastern feel emerges from beneath the awesomely resonant tom drum pulse.
The title of “12 From” sounds like a line taken from a cricket match “The Windies took twelve from that over, Ritchie.” Probably fanciful, as the jazzy snares and feedback phantasms coaxed by Charles-Eric’s guitar sound almost keyboard-like in their tone; both aquatic and earthy at the same time. Aspects of “12 From” reminded me of Australia’s very own jazz-not-jazz export The Necks, as well as Bark Psychosis circa Hex and the more peaceful side of Rune Grammofon’s post-everything juggernaut, Supersilent. “9 (8) Electricity” is Silver‘s most rockin’ moment, with perfectly formed dynamic alterner-blues-jazz textures and exquisitely situated changes running the gamut from frenetic to introspective.
Experimedia’s packaging for the CD of Silver comes in a most beguiling format. With the sizing of a DVD and the complexity of a pop-up book, the packaging adds a further element to music that already stands tall. If your interest in Charles-Eric Charrier is as piqued as mine has been by this astounding release, purchasing direct from Experimedia adds a bonus four-track EP of remixes, an extended version of “21 Echoes” and a non-album track. The Gallic slow burn (sounds like a recipe requiring a Le Creuset cast-iron cooking pot) of Silver is as captivating and original an album as you are likely to hear all year, and that’s a big call to make at this early stage of proceedings.
Oliver Laing
