Emerging from the watery depths a half decade after their debut, glass beach's plastic death is a monolith of an album, narratively entwined front to back. Intimately mixed, nostalgic arpeggios usher in opening track "coelacanth" before breaking into a manic headfirst run. plastic death is glass beach's maximalist undertaking, draped in weeping strings, brass, chirping birds, deep glitch bass, gargoyle-esque screams and ocean-bloated marimbas.
Yet through clever writing and mixing from frontperson J. McClendon and guitarist Layne Smith, the band sound firmly anchored in their roles. Smith's guitar strolls along the sun-baked asphalt of "cul de sac" and swings into a dramatic solo on "commatose," while Jonas Newhouse and William White's rhythm section kick off "coelacanth" in 7/4 time, never shying from a polyrhythmic adventure or two. On "the CIA" their parts braid together in a sturdy rope that steadies the song's frantic swing.
Despite the frantic adventurousness of the music, McClendon's choices feel more murmured and relaxed compared to the band's debut. It's ideal to vibe to, but potentially a barrier to those who might have difficulty parsing what's being sung.
At album's end, "commatose" feels like a final flourish, despite it being the penultimate track. Everyone is here, all instrumental characters flooding the stage in the sublime 10 minute fakeout finale. "abyss angel," the actual last song, is an epilogue, the "so what?" at the end of an essay. "abyss angel" exits contemplatively, like credits rolling across a screen as McClendon's pitched vocals lay listeners gently to rest on the final note. The same piano that welcomed them on "coelacanth" sees them out the door, wishing good luck and safe travels.
(Run For Cover)Yet through clever writing and mixing from frontperson J. McClendon and guitarist Layne Smith, the band sound firmly anchored in their roles. Smith's guitar strolls along the sun-baked asphalt of "cul de sac" and swings into a dramatic solo on "commatose," while Jonas Newhouse and William White's rhythm section kick off "coelacanth" in 7/4 time, never shying from a polyrhythmic adventure or two. On "the CIA" their parts braid together in a sturdy rope that steadies the song's frantic swing.
Despite the frantic adventurousness of the music, McClendon's choices feel more murmured and relaxed compared to the band's debut. It's ideal to vibe to, but potentially a barrier to those who might have difficulty parsing what's being sung.
At album's end, "commatose" feels like a final flourish, despite it being the penultimate track. Everyone is here, all instrumental characters flooding the stage in the sublime 10 minute fakeout finale. "abyss angel," the actual last song, is an epilogue, the "so what?" at the end of an essay. "abyss angel" exits contemplatively, like credits rolling across a screen as McClendon's pitched vocals lay listeners gently to rest on the final note. The same piano that welcomed them on "coelacanth" sees them out the door, wishing good luck and safe travels.