Kranky's double CD reissue of the debut recording from Charalambidesreveals the origins of a band that, to some of us coming in late in thegame, were seemingly without one. Everything I've heard from this nowtriple-guitar band is amorphous and translucent, the music never quitetouches the ground, preferring to remain among the hazy and unsureimages of dreams.
Kranky
Our Bed Is Greenis a massive recording of several different styles of music, all ofwhich are only hinted at on more recent releases. Between the soft,eerie opening of "Tea" and the hissing, open sound collage aura of"Finale" is a mish-mash of country, soul, blues, and spiritual musicgrinding upon each other and unleashing a full, dense steam of tenseatmospheres and playful, melodic pictures. Songs like "Bid YouGoodnight" and "I Don't Know You" are composed of relativelystraight-forward guitar and organ phrases harmonizing togetherperfectly, with either Christina or Tom singing, but without thestrange or alien characteristics of their more recent work (think
Joy Shapes).On the same CD, however, are droning and meditative guitar sonatas like"The Treadmill" and "Stuttgart." On these noise is king and the guitaris bled of every last ounce of electricity before Tom Carter eventhinks about letting it go. Crystalline notes seep through the walls ofsound that Charalambides lay down, providing a center to the chaos theysometimes unleash, and through their wails that familiar and hauntingspirit rolls out of their music. It's hard to imagine any other bandsitting such distinct musical styles side by side without soundingsloppy, but Charalambides can be quiet and spectral one moment, igneousthe next, and end up resolving themselves into a country-folk hybridthat eases on by as though it were carried on the wind. There might bemore recognizable elements on
Our Bed Is Green, but the musicis undeniably unlike anything else I've heard; Charalambides wereentirely unique from the beginning. The songs on their first record arealready composed of anti-matter and numinous non-sounds, placing all ofthem well outside this world and somewhere in the nether places of mythor mysticism.
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