Craig McElhinney is a busy man. Like a greyhound at the local dog track chasing a metaphorical rabbit, he’s barely drawn a breath since the release of his debut solo album on Meupe in 2009. His earliest work seemed influenced by a post-rock reverie and a textured approach to musicality straight out of the Brian Eno / Durutti Column songbook. Yet his latest CDRs have been drenched in enough echo, fog & reverb to satisfy any fan of Not Not Fun, Olde English Spelling Bee, Ultra Eczema or their ilk.
Perth’s Grave New World has been equally frenetic as Craig has over the intervening years, and it’s no wonder that his more recent work has found a home on this label, an essential edition to a small yet perfectly formed scene that’s happening in the suburbs spreading out to the immediate north of Perth City. I’ve wondered about GNW’s quality control on a few occasions, and Temple Pathworkings demonstrates this readiness to release a sneaky CDR and move onto the next project, rather than get bogged down in a grand artistic statement. Maybe I’m missing the point, but I just can’t see myself hunting out Temple Pathworkings, or it’s predecessor Be Water My Friend (released in July 2010) in five years time (unless I want to jog my addled brain with one facet of “The Sound of Perth” circa the end of the noughties). Immediacy is certainly Craig’s friend and confidant in his artistic endeavours. This immediacy is a well-established creative mode that stretches back to the dawn of recorded music, but its pinnacle seems to have been reached in the last decade as recording technology and the means of production have become more available to your average struggling musician or uni student.
Temple Pathworkings is best listened to as a whole, there are 14 short pieces spread out over half-an-hour. The Minutemen may have jammed Econo, but Craig McElhinney gives them a run for their money, although there is little evidence of a Double Nickels style freewheeling eclecticism. On “Permeation Yellows” a guitar-based drift looks into the teeth of the abyss whilst Tim Hecker’s Radio Amor plays at ear-piercing volume in the background. Following on with the theme started on Be Water My Friend, voice-overs are used to link tunes together, as on “Burning Out” before we descend into a whirlpool of processed guitar sonics. Recontextualising old movies, self-improvement and documentary soundbites to juxtapose the instrumental nature of the album, the majority of vocals have a stoner/rebel/misanthrope/refusenik undercurrent. I think the title of the tune “Everyday Slow Learner” sums this up perfectly.
“Son of Kavorka” takes a trip to the east with phased guitars sounding like sitars, or staged sitars sounding out phrased devotions to a mystical deity, possibly Bob, godhead for the Church of the Sub-genius. The album ends furiously with the strummed Sturm und Drang of the title track, a metallic-sounding 12-string lament that would make a great intro to a fully fleshed out song. Temple Pathworkings wont set the world on fire anytime soon, but it’s certainly another dot in the Craig McElhinney matrix – you can download the album or possibly still snaffle a CDR. I’m not sure that we need more verse/chorus/bridge/solo dynamics anytime soon, but I hanker for more than Temple Pathworkings from the gifted player that Craig undoubtedly is.
Oliver Laing
