I’m always torn by My Cat Is An Alien. In principle, I love them. But, I have to admit, I often find listening through to an entire release a bit of a chore. And I’d have to include Living On The Invisible Line in that assessment. If you know the work of the brothers Opalio, you already approximately know what this work sounds like. Four untitled tracks of reasonably long-form improvisation played out in real time. And it certainly has its moments.
It appears the two have set specific ranges of sounds for themselves on this outing and, indeed, even assign specific placements for themselves in the stereo spectrum to make discerning their contributions possible. Slightly to the left of the image is acoustic guitar, sometimes dry, often delayed, while slightly stage right are keyboard inputs, always processed in some form. ‘untitled 1’ follows this formula before adding simple, heavily delayed, non-lyrical voice textures. ‘untitled 2’ is a gentle three note shuffle of slow, slightly menacing electric keyboard and delayed guitar figure. The introduction of a zither-like sound at around the four minute mark disturbs the repetition and adds a pleasant sparkle. ‘untitled 3’ flings delayed twinkles, with the odd reversed sound and crackle of lead static. It grows darker and deeper over five minutes before stripping back to naked acoustic guitar and cheap keyboard sinetone ruminations. ‘untitled 4’ leads out with some processed voice loops before the acoustic guitar seeps back in, eventually replacing the loops completely. Heavily reverbed vocal meanderings of the type often heard on MCIAA’s recordings then duets with the guitar, which continues throughout with slight flamenco inflections.
And all those elements, I quite love. The problem with MCIAA, which Living On The Invisible Line does nothing to dispel, is that the sum of the parts is no larger than the whole. For music which is constantly presented in terms such as “epic soundscapes”, “blissed-out pastoral mirages” and “glimmers of an outer darkness”, I constantly find myself very aware of the fact that it actually just sounds like two guys in a small room. There is little in the way of the transcendence to which they so clearly aspire. Living On The Invisible Line at least introduces a clarity of recording often missing in their extensive catalogue but, even here, the sound of delays overdriving the recording system keep things firmly rooted to the terrestrial plane. I also find myself constantly aware of the process – imagining exactly which settings are being used on their delay and loop pedals in particular – to find myself being transported anywhere.
I do like My Cat Is An Alien and I own a reasonable chunk of their impossibly huge back catalogue. They are singular in their vision and pursue it doggedly. With that in mind, if you are a fan, you are going to like this work. But, as with their past work, I find it difficult to get past listening to the album as yet another document of their process rather than as a transcendent end point in and of itself.
Adrian Elmer
