Khancoban Limbs May Fall by: Dan Osmolowski Tue:07-Oct-08 Label: Half A Cow Year: 2008 WB rating 79 out of 100

Choosing to name your band after a town in the Snowy Mountains is definitely a good way to conjure a mental image in the mind of the listener as to what your music may sound like. Commonsense dictates then, that Khancoban is certainly a winter band. Indeed, their music sounds like the cold. Like a warm breath condensing in the frosty air. Like the crystalline dark and sparkling stars of a mid-winter night. It’s a moniker that makes sense; just as a band playing summery pop could be called Copacabana.

While there is nothing overly groundbreaking about Limbs May Fall, there is plenty to like about the way that this Melbourne band delivers their melancholic country tunes. There is an atmosphere in these songs that is befitting of the region from which the band takes their name and there is a sense of isolation and ‘dreaminess’ which permeates each of the album’s 12 tracks. Lyricist Andre Hooke weaves some pretty and emotive tales of relationships that leave just enough mystery hanging; rather like the limbs of the trees that adorn the album’s front cover. “All those words they just went up in smoke/and there you stand and there you choke,” sings Hooke on standout track, ‘Stolen Car’. There is a poetic quality to all of Hooke’s lyrics and they stand confidently on their own, even when divorced from the music, as they are in the album’s accompanying booklet. Hooke’s relatively high register is distinctive without being forced or accentuated – there is a natural Australian identity about Limbs May Fall, something that is not actively strived for in the lyrics through direct references to people or locations, but something that the likes of Forster and MacLennan achieved through a ‘spirit’ of place.

‘Limbs May Fall’ is a beautiful opening after the instrumental intro of ‘Hours’. Banjo and cymbal splashes anchor a song that, like the majority of the album, shows a restraint that is calming and welcome. Rarely does the band push their craft too far in search of artificial peaks; rather, the music ebbs and flows with each musician playing off gently against each other. It is in the rare moments when the band does attempt guitar ‘noise’ that you realise the band’s strengths. ‘Balloon Sunrise’, for example, climaxes in some misdirected guitar ‘riffing’ that just seems out of place. Similarly, ‘Such A Big Sky’ is worse off for its generic post-rock influenced crescendo. Perhaps if these moments were more frequent or part of a wider, more discordant sonic palette, like that found on Bon Iver’s For Emma, Forever Ago or on Wilco’s more experimental works, then they would have made sense.

These are small concerns, however. The horns and strings, as arranged by Sodastream’s Pete Cohen, on tracks like ‘Comedy Night’ and ‘Adelaide Song’ lend a subtle ache to the music that is earnest and never contrived. ‘By The Lights’ reminds of The Black Heart Procession at their gothic best on the 2 album and the shuffling beat of ‘Ghosts In This Lake’ and ‘I Can Only Afford To Win’ provide a hope-filled counter-point to some of the album’s more reflective moments. ‘Stolen Car’ utilises the 10CC choral vocal trick adopted by REM on ‘Star Me Kitten’ to wonderful effect. It is here where Hooke’s voice really shines as he lumbers over the sparse acoustic guitar and a crying lap steel. All roads on the album meet at this point and it is when the production on Limbs May Fall is at its peak – it is deep, resonant and sincere.

With winter already a fading memory in the Southern Hemisphere, Limbs May Fall may seem like an album out of place. To the contrary, it is an album to be enjoyed for its strengths, regardless of the season. Khancoban may be borne of fireplaces, frost and fog but their real roots are in playing graceful, heartfelt and beautiful songs.