Always a breeding ground for talent, Australia never stops surprising with the sheer variety of its output. It actually feels strange to line up the most famous bands from the land of the kangaroo: Ac/Dc, Dead Can Dance, Hoodoo Gurus, Nick Cave, Birthday Party, Church, Daevid Allen, Bee Gees, Go-Betweens and Radio Birdman are just a few examples of the boundless Australian musical macrocosm.
Oliver Downes is a somewhat unsettling figure: his artistic profile is a world away from the ferocious bands that reinvigorated the wave movement of the 80s and 90s. Even the light post-rock inflections of "Ultraviolet", which might bring to mind fellow countrymen Dirty Three, are steeped in such a visionary reading of jazz canon that they come out the other side utterly transformed. And it's purely an emotional connection that might align Oliver Downes' baritone voice with some of Nick Cave's forays into European romanticism.
Already the author of an intriguing EP ("At The End"), the Australian pianist, composer and singer puts together an original art-pop project, where a rich melodic flow intersects chamber music, folk, film music and noise.
The essence of "Ultraviolet" is profanation, understood as a method of approaching composition, and the title track is a shining example of this: a cryptic, dark ballad for piano and voice, dragged into a jazz orgy by a choir of voices and a handful of guitar and bass chords, a song underscored by Oliver Downes' voice with aching lyrical minimalism.
The contribution of violinist Chris Stone and the art-folk trio The String Contingent proves essential: we owe to them the elegant arrangements of "Heat Of The Day", a sophisticated jazz-blues ballad with chamber-pop tones reminiscent of Blue Nile, as well as the eccentric digressions of "Walk Away" (a vocal duet with Brian Campeau), a delectable hybrid of jazz dissonances and noise fragments that for a moment evokes Scott Walker.
"Ultraviolet" is an atypical album in its execution too: the solid, understated songwriting is put to the test by an instrumental approach closer to jazz, and indeed the musicians' contribution is a fundamental part of the project's success.
The gentle pop of "Never Let Me Go" is in its own way unusual, also marked by an atypical violin solo that replaces the predictable piano or guitar break; even the solemnity of "Under Quarantine" conceals a stimulating stylistic dichotomy, with noise and gothic atmospheres duelling through dissonances and double-bass intrusions, while guitar distortions spill over into chaos.
"Ultraviolet" is musically a verbose album, so dense that it invites contemplation more than comprehension; the suggestions are manifold, chamber-pop in a Canterbury vein ("Into The Sun"), ballads poised between romanticism and decadence ("Hang And Abide"), pop lightness ("Line Of Flight"), lush jazz passages ("Fail Safe") and unexpected bluegrass contaminations ("Wild Sacrament") alternate in a kaleidoscopic sonic melange with no equivalent in the current musical landscape.
A genuine revelation.
Add OndaRock to your favorite sources on Google Discover. Don't miss our reviews, milestones and latest news straight in your feed.
05/11/2016
This article is an English translation of the original Italian text by Gianfranco Marmoro, published on OndaRock.it. It was translated with the help of artificial intelligence, under the editorial responsibility of OndaRock's editor-in-chief, Claudio Fabretti.