Mono You Are There by: Steve Scully Mon:09-Apr-07 Label: Temporary Residence Year: 2006 WB rating 84 out of 100

It is often the case that when a rock group plays an instrumental number, it’s met with a collective cringe. In Mono’s case, you’ll be hard-pressed to find a human voice at all in their recordings. Influenced heavily by the ‘post-rock’ style of instrumentation (think Mogwai, Sigur Ros, or for an Australian equivalent, maybe Art Of Fighting) – involving melodic guitar lines, often formulaic use of the crescendo, and influences ranging from ambient electronica to free jazz – Mono have carved themselves a musical niche of sorts, and on You Are There, it is safe to say that no one really sounds like them.

Could it all be a geographical thing? Put in layman’s terms: Japan, Mono’s homeland is in the top right of Asia. Iceland, the home of Bjork, Sigur Ros, Múm and the like is in the top left of Europe. Now’s not the time for an in-depth analysis of the effects that geographical positioning has, but could this existence ‘on the edge’, detached from congested multi-national sprawls of people, incite a more intense individualism? Although it can’t be said that too much of Japan’s music scene is far superior to, say, the bollocks we get served annually through Eurovision, Mono have opened my eyes to the possibility that perhaps there is a Japanese music movement similar to that of Iceland – a movement away from the norm, towards the obscure and unique. Put simply, Mono are brilliant, and should elicit a similar excitement from those looking for a new genre of music to laud as the opening of Agaetis Byrjun. You Are There may not be quite at the level of Sigur Ros’ amazing international debut, but the signs are definitely there.

The opening track, ‘The Flames Beyond The Cold Mountain’, is more than 13 minutes long, but don’t let this deter you; the string-laden opening to the piece swells to a deafening crescendo towards its climax, the full extent and elegance of which can’t be conveyed in words. Mono pins the listener to the seat, producing a track that not only leaves you engrossed, but absolutely engulfed by noise. The subtle beauty of the strings is replaced by an almost industrial guitar effect as the track reaches its conclusion, making clear the band’s desire to create an ebb and flow in their musical landscape; they want you to follow them through the valleys and through the mountains of sound. The distortion on the guitars borders on incongruous, but given that this sound is itself relatively left-field, you can forgive them for the occasional lapse into unpredictable, sonically-oppressive territory.

If the title is anything to go by, ‘A Heart Has Asked For The Pleasure’ is the love song of the album. Again, it is a track laced with beautiful, if simple string arrangements, but this time Mono hark back to more classical roots with the introduction of glockenspiel and tremolo/trilled guitars. This exquisitely offsets the album opener, as it ambulates rather than builds, and caresses rather than assaults.

Similarly, ‘The Remains Of The Day’, the albums fifth and penultimate track, does the object of its homage proud. Just as Ishiguro’s novel of the same name entrances its readers, so the gracefulness of Mono’s musical prose here evokes conflicting emotive responses. Unutterably beautiful in its subtlety, the delicate strings and piano melody create a swirling melancholy, yet still maintains a degree of light-heartedness and exudes a hopeful quality. These emotions lend the track a cathartic effect, this time without the need for overblown guitar effects or one of their characteristic crescendos.

These quieter tracks, the album’s shortest, show just how excess and grandeur can be contrasted effectively by understated gracefulness.  The measure of a good band is often in their ability, not only to write a song, but to practically ensnare the listener, keeping them guessing at every turn. Mono have succeeded in creating pieces of music that so beautifully convey the album’s pervasive emotive framework, whilst restraining themselves to a sensitive, soft, relative stand-still in the context of the rest of the record. When contrasted with the pounding rhythms and crunching guitars through the latter half of the album’s opener, ‘The Flames Beyond The Cold Mountain’, we are given a very clear view of the scope of Mono’s musical talent.

A track-by-track analysis of You Are There seems out of place. The album is so cohesive, and its musical style and themes so pervasive that it deserves to be judged as a whole. On face value, it may seem that the album is relatively monotonous – apart from the quieter tracks, the formulaic song structure is at times disappointing – but the instrumentation is so good, and the execution so impressive, that it is extremely hard to fault this record. The guitar melodies render the lack of vocals a non-issue, and the string arrangements, especially in the final track, ‘Moonlight’, are always spot-on in both tone and dynamic. Sumptuous and gloriously indulgent, You Are There is one of my favourite records of the year so far.