Author: Aleš Podbrežnik
Artist: Spock Studios
Label: ZARŠ Records
Release: 2012
Length: 35:28
Rating: 3/5
One of the rich expressive branches of alternative rock, or »underground« rock, the kind that’s supposed to keep evolving in its own way, fully independent, out of sight, quietly and in the spirit of total freedom, is the one that builds its artistic signature on a platform of electronic sound manipulation. Spock Studios are še another local oddball act developing their musical culture this way.
»A Degree Below Your Means« is the band’s third studio outing. They debuted with the studio first »The Universe And Beyond« in 2008, followed in 2010 by the album »120mm«. Along the way, the group, originally sketched out as the project of a single creative mind, grew past a duo into a trio.
On the new album, too, the band deepens and widens its musical vision, which rests, as already mentioned, on electronic sound manipulation, on tinkering with software loops and electronic fiddling, to which it adds a rock connotation in larger or smaller doses by working in raw, unpolished guitar distortion. The matrix of the trivial, even danceable drum foundation comes from a drum machine the guys call »Renata«, while the bass guitar provides its analog counterweight and enriches the organic side of the sonic picture.
Add it all up and what we have in front of us is musical matter that, in its basic ambition, drags the listener into a parallel world that demands an instant disconnect from the real one (the one we’re taught from the day we start walking is the only true and trustworthy one). That means building ambient backdrops that work hypnotically and put the listener in a state of rapture, of transcendence. If the opening Colors is more or less set up to steer your full focus with its techno beat and a screaming spice of lost voices (in Reflections and Undertaker the vocals sound like they escaped from the NYHC underground, long, long ago), then the next one, A Septic Contribution Of Mind Itself, is the point where the album takes off into ambient territory. The longest track basically delivers the Spock Studios point in a good seven minutes. Software loops form a compact curtain on which the whole piece floats, built from several lead motifs, with an air of unexpected twists and repetition of those motifs, reinforced by the raw contour of chopped-up guitar phrases. This will be right up the alley of post rock fans too.
The album ebbs and flows through an alternating run of tracks, between those built on a strong rhythmic techno beat and those that keep cruising in ambient mode under a curtain of harmonies aimed mostly at capturing the midrange. The expressive range the band navigates is big, wide, with practically undefined boundaries, so it allows, or let’s say can bear, a lot of experimenting and trying things out. That’s exactly the album’s weak spot, since the band doesn’t use nearly enough of the room to maneuver it has, and in a mere 35 minutes or so it doesn’t offer enough tangible substance to make the listener want to dig deeper into what the album has to say. Going forward, the band could build on this with more variety in how they manipulate sound and by bringing in other instruments, while vocals as an extra instrument aren’t even necessary, since they tend to annoyingly chop up the structure of the songs rather than strengthen it.
The band knows this, so they’ve backed their music with a visual element, which is an excellent solution. Spock Studios’ music really catches fire only live, where video projections add a visual layer to the performance. It’s an age-old trick used by other bands too, post rock ones above all, who somehow make up for the unfortunate fact that the novelty of exploring their studio releases usually fades with every further spin in the CD player. A touch of visuals enriches this kind of music at gigs in a hugely sensible way, with a fully effective, deeply hypnotic levitation! So the fact is, this CD alone won’t quite do it for you. To get to the heart of Spock Studios, you have to see them live. Only then can their artistic essence touch you in all its authenticity. That’s why one of the key things the band has to focus on going forward is channeling its energy into creating a stage set for the live shows that will convincingly put a spell on even the most demanding listener,
The band pays a lot of attention to aesthetic finesse, which follows logically from what was described in the previous paragraph. The design of the booklet and the whole »tray card« is top-notch and matches the level of contemporary design for this kind of album in the developed world. The chosen motif puts a tall-trunked orchard of old apple trees and wild crab apples at the center, and under the canopy of one of those trees, an anesthetized body bathes in the calm of late-afternoon sun rays caressing it, lying in a rusty bathtub hooked up to a power source (the tree trunk). The motif instantly spotlights the band’s point, which is building a connection to the parallel world of the beyond. In the lap of Morpheus, god of dreams, it’s not hard to become a starfarer.
»A Degree Below Your Means« is a bold artistic step up from the band’s previous two albums, while also suggesting that Spock Studios still have plenty of room to maneuver for musical expression in this otherwise very interesting, idiosyncratic and challenging musical matter of the album. It’ll be interesting to watch where the band goes next.
Line-up
Matic Šuštar – guitar, programming
Blaž Flerin – bass guitar, vocals
SV. Pixel – video
Production
Spock Studios
Tracklist
1. Colors
2. A Septic Contribution of Mind Itself
3. Don’t Touch The Stars
4. Undertaker
5. Maybe We Should Try Something Else
6. TV
7. We Left Our Souls In Other Dimensions
8. Reflection
