The Ancients
2
(Sensory Projects)

There’s something unmistakably special about the Ancients. The Melbourne band may traffic in the esoteric – dewy jangle, buzzing keyboards, and askew rhythms, not to mention Jonathan Michell’s striking lyrics and ghostly, narcoleptic drawl – but it’s all arranged in a way that will send shivers down the spine of anyone who’s ever loved the Feelies and Galaxie 500. Recorded in the large swathe of time between spring of 2008 and last February, this simply titled second album is unassumingly psychedelic and drenched in spongy atmosphere. Another idiosyncratic product of Melbourne’s fertile underground, it’s a lovely study in textured, unhurried guitar-pop.

Michell’s interesting choice of lyrics surfaces from the opening ‘Street Funk’, on which he sings with considerable authority: “I’ll tell you something / Street funk rules the world.” Mitchell is the band’s default leader, singing lead on most songs, but he splits guitar and keyboard duties with artist Mark Rodda, who painted the album cover and in turn splits guitar and bass duties with Georgina Ward, while Raquel Solier drums and sings harmonies. All that instrument swapping doesn’t affect the songs’ consistency, and surely Michell is used to it from his time in the on-again, off-again “supergroup” Mum Smokes. Rodda sings lead on ‘To The Hills’, which is just as gently creepy as any of Michell’s tunes, and ‘Insect Night’, a wavering sliver of the pastoral that cites ants, snakes, wombat holes, and a wattle glade. Ward sings lead only on ‘Christine’, a bashfully pretty entry.

There are cool details peppered throughout this relatively short record – it weighs in at just 34 minutes – including the surreal instrumental tail of ‘The Rambler’ and the vocal harmonies, guest trumpet, and effects-glistened guitar of ‘Sunday Evening’. But the truly standout tracks are the second and third: despite the lo-fi haze to Michell’s singing, ‘Marsh Tomb’ unfurls an excellent hook that’s begging for the song to be a single, while he casually drops unnerving, possibly post-apocalyptic imagery over prog-flirting licks on ‘Rising Seas’. An anomaly, on the other hand, is the closing ‘A Patriot’s Duty’, a freaky instrumental jam twice the length of most songs here. Closer to Mum Smokes’ discursive creations or maybe the Clean in raga mode, the song is off-kilter with swampy keyboards, tangled guitar, and a near-march beat. It eschews the breathy pop of the rest of 2 while tapping directly into the ominous, addled streak running through this warped gem.

Doug Wallen

myspace.com/theeancients