Kes The Grey Goose Wing by: Justin Pearsall Tue:13-Mar-07 Label: Mistletone Year: 2007 WB rating 68 out of 100

What is it that makes an album or a song memorable? I mean, we hear so much music in our lives, so what is the distinguishing factor between mediocre and mesmerising? The vast majority of bands that are signed can at least play their instruments and hold their notes – and if not there is pitch correction, punk music and lip-synching anyway. But simply being able is not enough in music. There are songs and albums that stay with us, documenting our lives, and others that simply slide by us – vanishing into the air. The strange thing about this is that the music that most inspires is not always that which we instantly are drawn to. In fact, the music that we wear down in the first few days of owning can soon become an unwelcome intruder – turning from catchy to tedious in a heartbeat.

Upon hearing The Grey Goose Wing, I feel that the answer is clear. The old catchcry that we are “a slave to the rhythm” is untrue; it is the melody that is our master. How else can you explain how The Grey Goose Wing — an album of divergence, obscurity, out of time performances, Owl’s hooting, backward piano and otherworldly weirdness – is so listenable?

Undoubtedly, this non-linear approach to songwriting is a planned move by Kes – but not in a telemarketer-trying-to-befriend-you sort of way – as his music is too aware for The Grey Goose Wing to be anything but genuine. The imagery of ‘The Bruise’ is indicative of Kes’ authenticity: “I went to talk to the moon/But the moon’s not that easy to talk to/So I threw some rocks at it/Knowing that they may not hit,” the gentle journey of Kes’ poetry illustrated by a voice that has the courage to openly break and bend, harmonies that are left far short of perfection.

The highlight of ‘The Bruise’, and perhaps the album, is the flood of ‘bahs’ that rain over the listener as the song winds down. This is prime Kes, as there is nothing typical about these harmonies and no real influences that you can pin this sound on. The Grey Goose Wing is at its best in moments such as these, when the album revels in the atypical, but grounds itself via melody. ‘The Bruise’ is an example of the unconventional and the melodic co-existing in beautiful synergy; the structure floats away from the listener but the melody comes back again and again like an obedient dog.

‘The Bruise’ is joined by ‘Only When Asked’, ‘The Ghost Got Caught’ and ‘Using My Tongue’ as the best mix of conventionality and the non-traditional, each containing their own moments of splendour. Aside from these vocally-led tracks, The Grey Goose Wing is textured by intermittent instrumental movements and themes. These instrumental moments flit from epic-status – the opening two minutes of ‘One Seventeen (Recorder + Band)’ – to avant garde, animal noises and backward tape loops (as in the final two minutes of the same song) and resolve as haunting a capella in ‘Paddy + Laura’s Vocals’.  The variety of instruments, animal-like noises and melancholy pop used in these musical interludes create a sound that is natural and earthy. As if, amongst a stack of towering oak trees, Kes is composing from deep within the woods; unaffected by the modern times outside these oaks.

While the adventure inherent in The Grey Goose Wing makes it both refreshing and intriguing, it is when the avant garde dominates the melody that Kes begins to lose his appeal. These slips into the absurd, apparent on songs such as ‘The Recipe’ and the Yoko Ono ending of ‘Limit Me’, hurt the flow of the album. While there is nothing wrong with the idea behind such variations, Kes would be well served to remember the maxim: ‘the melody is our master’.