Tarwater Spider Smile by: Mark Simms Mon:14-May-07 Label: Morr Music Year: 2007 WB rating 48 out of 100

Many noises scatter in Spider Smile. Scatter and scurry, separate, and break up. However, they eventually find each other, merging like the broken pieces of the T-1000 to create one sound, one vision in Spider Smile. The music carries with it a strong sense of experimentation; an army of samples that sounds as though they were tested, tested some more, and then tweaked until the desired outcome: electro-based, slow beats and puzzling sound effects that at first confuse the senses. However, in the majority of tracks, lightly plucked guitar, soothing violins, and jittering percussion unite the different sounds; through the mess these sounds sort each other out.

As individual songs there are a welcome mix of untried samples, delicate craftsmanship, and two men showing that if it can produce a sound, then they will use it. However, when each track is taken in at once, they merge into one – just like the freaking T-1000 – to become a collection of slightly greasy looking grey slop.

Opening track ‘Shirley Temple’ starts with what sounds like a modem; reminiscent of the oh-too-familiar days where broadband didn’t exist. The soft screeching that opens the track immediately sets the scene for the album – a place where modems and unfamiliar tones will make regular appearances – eventually giving way to a melody that evokes exciting questions of what’s to come; rich in electronic noise and incompatible sound gelled together. It moves along at a slow and thoughtful pace; an opening track that works.

Stylistically the album is full of contradictions, verging from minimalism to instances of crowding, where the pace picks up and sounds splash together. The voice of Ronald Lippok isn’t too flash, and maybe it was never meant to be an important part of the sound of Tarwater – just an extra instrument that communicates the words. Often the music is better without out it, his voice interfering with the experimental soundscapes.

Spider Smile carries with it a strong sense of consideration as to how it all works musically, and usually this is a good thing for an album to have; but at times, it seems to just evokes thoughts of sleep and distraction – as if maybe too much stirring spoiled the broth. A little unplanned insurgence of racket and continued mess could not only change the mood, but also alert the senses. To succeed in what seems an erratic and unusual vision Lippok needs to cut loose, this is all too controlled and manipulated.

With Spider Smile, listening is an exercise in spotting the instrument; bluesy harmonica and brooding oboe making appearances – the fact that the musicians make them work in the context of the songs is fascinating. However, when the songs merge into one another towards the end, no individual instruments can save the tired songwriting. The album becomes boring because the songs’ are homogeneous; the once exciting experimentation of mixing standard instruments with electro sounds can only sustain interest when there is a worthy composition below this noodling.

Spider Smile is diverse and unusual, an album where investigational mixtures mould into complex melodies and give it some appeal. However, this formula loses itself when tamed. It’s music that at first runs riot, but too willingly checks itself. Such a retreat into the shell is a terrible shame, as, like the T-1000, once joined and assembled the sum of the parts still come out grey.