Love Of Diagrams Mosaic by: Tom Hall Tue:06-Mar-07 Label: Matador Year: 2007 WB rating 76 out of 100

In these the days of repetitive instrumental phrasings and photocopied attempts at ‘obscurity’, it’s frightening how easy it is to forget what ‘good new rock music’ sounds like. Well, if you have this problem, respite is but an album purchase away. And if you don’t have this problem, do yourself a favour, listen to a track from something horribly derivative like Wolfmother, Jet, or Eskimo Joe. Then listen to the car-wreck-like, intertwining riff-off which greets you in the first 40 seconds of Mosaic. Then try and figure out why you can’t make sense of what you’re hearing. That’s what I’ve been doing this week. And I finally worked out why.

For those unfamiliar with Love of Diagrams they are a Melbourne three-piece who elbow their sound into an extremely crammed room; a room filled with familiar faces, abrasive personalities, and the sounds of the familiar, the rarely heard, the intriguing, and the completely unattractive. It is a collage of the fascinating and the repellent in the tradition of At The Drive-In and Sonic Youth, and a sound which with every listen reminds you more and more of not Joy Division, or Sleater Kinney, but of Love Of Diagrams. It is a uniquely honest energy which explains itself more and more with each listen, smoothing out its own wrinkles, justifying its shabby presentation, appearing far more calculated and credible with each loop. And, might I add, there has been A LOT of looping from yours truly this week.

Nothing exemplifies this better than the lead off track ‘Form And Function’, which revels in an oddly timed, broken-beat of an axe-wrestle. Driving drums, double-time punk bass, played with the indispensable plectrum, glorious tinny single note guitar, and a barely containable drum beat sits panting anxiously at your feet, coaxing you to come play with it. The spectre of punk looms large, yet is moderated by a combination of gentility and great production. The riffs and rhythms appear frantic, yet retain a sense of measured timeliness which accentuates the space between the notes, stretching the created sound in such a way that we introduce a half step, and eventually take our time enough to enjoy the product: great rock done right.

Getting your head around ‘Form and Function’ opens up the rest of Mosaic an incredible amount, and we sail blissfully into the gorgeous ‘The Pyramid’. Bassist/Vocalist Antonia Sellbach walks the fine line between obscurity and seduction with a swagger worthy of Ian Curtis, Frank Black or Kim Gordon, delivering intense imagery with just the right amount of coyness: “Oh, you broke into my house and you stole it / OH! You broke into my house and you stole it / Oh. Oh! OH!” Even though it is with this song that Love Of Diagrams most blatantly bare their influences – most accurately a gothic Cure-ish ambience that nails the creepy uneasiness of a Joy Division-style reverb – it is also the most established moment, the most comfortable expression of a confident sound, and a song which will serve them extremely well in many varied musical circles.

Further on, at the sexy midriff of Mosaic, the attraction of this band is solidified, fully realised on the back of strong musicianship, a confidence in their form and composition, and an energy which can only be cultivated from a fertile base of genuine creative intrigue. Yet here it also appears that the form acts as an inhibiting force. There are no huge creative stretches, no genuine attempts at variety, no intense failings. The general vibe is of a band locking down their sound with a formidable sense of purpose, albeit through utilising a limited framework. Vocally, Sellbach overuses the refrain “Oh!” (and its variations) a bit much, an approach aimed at  providing the songs with colour and texture rather than narrative, and, in relation to the thematic dynamism of the songs, it is all that could exist within the parameters of Mosaic. The actual playing on the album is nothing short of brilliant. Drum patterns pull and push us in a myriad of directions, and the guitar work intertwines throughout the songs in a truly brilliant way. The bass playing is nothing short of formidable; pumping out staccato punctuation that dominates the middle ground often left open to breathe in three pieces such as this. Form and mood dominate, and this is not a bad thing.

Is this what we have been lacking in rock? What is the problem that all us critics - published and not – have with the state of rock, particular in mainstream Australia? Clean guitars, perfectly replicated ‘70’s clarity and simplicity, and sweet hair dos have served to sterilise and inhibit, and have completely failed to bring any sense of mood or intention along for the ride. The boozy frontmen and wacky-hat wearing drummers which have dominated the ‘commercially viable’ rock scene are certainly unsatisfactory to those who care, but why? Listening to an album like Mosaic seems to provide part of the answer – rock has become a shell. The problem with this is that it is such a huge shell, having been fashioned out of three decades of giant personalities, enormous tragedies, overly dramatised compositions, and irreplaceable folklore. Within this form, rock can so easily feel unsatisfactory, thin and lacking in any decent substance, one way or the other.

This album, however, stakes its own claim. Yes it is derivative, yet it’s derivative of bands and styles which have formed out of a necessity to be necessary and honest. It is a Mosaic, in every sense, using seemingly unrelated pieces and contrasting textures and angles to make sense of a far more worthy whole. While certainly alternatively geared, Love Of Diagrams demonstrate a gorgeous ear for song, and highlight’s such as ‘The Pyramid’, ‘What Was I Supposed To Do’ and the stick-in-your-brain-like-a-rusty-fish-hook chorus of ‘Ms V. Export’ signify a true talent – and they’re Aussies! Overall, this album has been a real treat to be forced to examine, and every bit of effort feels completely worthwhile.