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Stories occasionally surface of actors who, attempting to capture the essence of a role, are incapable of letting go of their new persona— unable to immediately “switch off,” they retain the language and mannerisms of some past character even after the final cut. Austin’s Ghost of the Russian Empire, with their first full length, “The Mammoth,” encounter a similar pitfall—after establishing their own spectral, mournful shoegaze sound, the band refuses to move on or cover new ground.
Starting with the entrancing “Decade Without a Death,” GOTRE wears their influences on the sleeves of their greatcoats, opening with what sounds like the intro to a Godspeed, You! Black Emperor album before the tempo picks up, unfolding into a fast paced, haunting affair. Each snare hit drives the band forward as delayed rhythm guitar meets ultra-reverbed vocals, making the band seem ten feet underwater, a sound that continues for the remainder of the album.
“Hammer Hands” introduces some clean acoustic guitar into the mix, adding a definite Radiohead charm as ambient chords swirl and loom over the listener. Vocals become just another instrument, with effects laid on so heavily that they render the words incomprehensible—though in a song with so many layers already, this seems like a poorly chosen tactic. Like many other songs on Mammoth, after three-and-a-half minutes of building speed, the song abruptly loses steam before reaching any discernable climax.
“Dark,” perhaps the most aptly titled track on an album by an already aptly named band, is one of the prettier sounding moments of the albums—though every bit dark, the somber tone captures something at once beautiful and tragic, with melodic guitar lines breaking through a mix of vocal harmonies and waltzing drum lines. “In the Borough of a Beast” illustrates the last minor hint of innovation on The Mammoth, with gothic sounding piano adding some fuzzless clarity to an album overwhelmed by distortion and sound-modification. Even so, it doesn’t break the pattern of brooding, somnambulant motion conjured up through the rest of the track list. Yes, every song on The Mammoth sounds like the echoed cries of a bygone empire, but should the listener really have to endure a thousand Russian winters when merely one will do?
Despite the technical adequacy of GOTRE, they fail to challenge their own limits, instead relying on almost every studio trick in existence to smudge over mistakes and shroud their keystrokes in mystery. Eventually the reverb has to stop and the audience has to know what manner of vocalist they are dealing with; a true voice must be heard. Our need to know the band remains unfulfilled, because despite our desire, we cannot join the band in their underwater excursion. Only after Ghost of the Russian Empire decides to let down their guise and reveal themselves via at least some emotional variance—to surface from the depths—will they make their music engaging and personal. Until that happens, we’re all just waiting for this Mammoth to be dug up and thawed out.
Websites:
www.ghostoftherussianempire.com
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