Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Kill and Eat: Green Bushes
Sometimes, loneliness is a feeling that can be strangely comforting. There is often a sense of possibility, when out of the corner of the isolation there is that tiny flicker of some vast landscape, as when seeing peripherally out of the window of a train. Your little seat and pull down tray are all you have, but rushing by is the whole other world of experience. Sometimes you fold a little more into yourself, because with that potential for experience comes the dread of choice, the fear of your own agency, and maybe even the trouble it has gotten you into before. But even the conscious decision to not act contains that glorious vision of what could still be had, if only the train would stop.
And so it is with Kill and Eat's new release Green Bushes, a little steam train of strange and just-on-the-cusp-of-glorious set pieces. At first listen, I was immediately reminded of The Microphones, but instead of veering into noisy invocations of rock, Kill and Eat bumps up against jazz. Caleb Vogel's vocals avoid being cloying while maintaining a kind of preciousness that makes the whole thing feel a little unstable. I imagine live, there is something even more special going on, as what is improvisational probably looks a lot like that scenery that keep changing and beckoning from the hazy glass of the little window.
--Kill and Eat: Green Buishes
--and buy it here or download for free