The Cancer Conspiracy - Omega
Rating
RIYL
RushRussian Circles
Don Caballero
Tracklist
01 i02 ii
03 iii
04 iv
05 v
06 vi
07 vii
08 viii
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I could talk about the story behind The Cancer Conspiracy’s name or their enormous influence in the indie scene, particularly among instrumental acts, but instead let this review be a chance for lovers of math/prog rock to be stoked that after several years and a struggle to obtain the rights to the final material from Big Wheel Recreation, Omega has finally been released, complete with production by Matt Squire — a curious pairing given his resume of more pop-inflected fare.
It’s fitting that Radar Recordings release TCC’s swansong because, according to co-owner Will Benoit, it was his experiencing the Burlington, Vermont act that caused him play music, eventually in Constants. After releasing a solid self-titled EP, TCC wrought their only full proper full-length, The Audio Medium, a dense masterpiece of capricious yet focused prog bombast, belying their three-piece size and causing the listener to disappear in a swirling but scorched landscape of lasers and inhuman communication. Omega is a more restrained affair that falls short of the band’s benchmark, but it’s a beautiful complement to their limited oeuvre, and still deserving of a perfect score.
One of the things that detracts from Omega’s overall effect just slightly is that while three of the eight tracks are gorgeous minimalist ambience, they would seem to be better used as movements of the proper songs rather than autonomous segues. The first track, though, is what I like to call “efficacious ambience” because it coaxes the aforesaid listener into the record, making him or her a participant. Ghostly cymbal flourishes, gentle piano, Daryl Rabidoux’s ever-so-versatile guitar, and the instrument that made TCC truly unique in prog indie, the saxophone, crooning through the ether make this track an admitted highlight. It’s unfortunate, however, that this is the only saxophone usage on the album.
“II” begins whimsically, almost dancily, Squire’s crisp production immediately evident, and it’s a rush to hear TCC doing their thing again - always subtle, always engaging. The opening section repeats twice, as do subdued and rocking counters. Speaking of a rush, Rush’s theatricality is then evoked during the middle section with Johnny Northrup’s drums being particularly nimble. Around 2:30 a riff surfaces around which the rest of the piece centers. It might sound like a bad decision to repeat the same riff for another three minutes in a prog setting known for mutability, but somehow it works; probably because the riff is so damn catchy, shifting around but still the same.
In beautiful TCC form, “III” begins with a rolling drum which appears to portend a raging number; instead “III” is analogous to "II"’s mix of dynamics. After the first two minutes or so, the movement departs from mission control and launches into space unfettered, creating a tapestry of ship trajectory. There are the dips beneath billowing comets, glissades down pockets of impenetrable sky, and synthesizer to mirror the synergy of man and nature. Suddenly the ship appears to be pursued by a phalanx of meteors but it returns to base unscathed.
“IV” is another beautiful ambient section whose ideas would have been best used inside a proper number like “V,” which commences with Daryl Rabidoux knifing guitars lines and Greg Beadle’s steady bass groans. The razoring riffage is interrupted at 1:30 by a more downtempo section where the guitars snake, foam, and grow hungry. At 3:10 the track begins to whine like a tegument of wind enveloping the players, lulling them with their own magic to sleep until 5:00 when they break away, raging and throwing away obstacles for safety.
“VI” has about the ghostliest piano section I’ve heard leading into the penultimate track, possibly the record’s finest because it appears to conjoin the segue flavor with the rockier moments. It’s like listening to two bands at once: a mellow Death Cab for Cutie song with Neil Peart on drums, so that you’re lulled while being simultaneously dazzled by pyrotechnics.
“VIII” is vintage TCC and is like a The Audio Medium b-side, which is a huge compliment. It combines everything that makes this band special: brilliant musicianship, phrasing, and theory, moments that are so still and pimp they make you want to sing along somehow, and ecstatic repetitions that sound like the heartbeat of God.
Bottom Line: If you call yourself a instrumental aficionado, be it math-rock, post-rock, etc., and you haven’t experienced this cancer, you’re a fuckin’ liar. Do it.
--Stephen Chamberlain
Comments
AZ
www.myspace.com/arcoftheaurora
PA
[FONT=Arial Black]ANCESTOR. [/FONT]
http://www.last.fm/user/Scotticus_Prime/
Leeds, England
Green Brook, NJ
San Borja, Lima, Perú
Markham, ON
You can order it from here.
P.S. This is what the alphabet would look like if you removed Q and R.
Jersey / Raleigh