Levator's 'The Biggest Waves Come At Night' redefines indie
Album's melodic tones and relaxed cadence scintillate
By: Ott Tammik
Posted: 1/29/09
Indie wasn't always the mainstream. Before Issaquah, Wash.'s Modest Mouse went international and began playing good but FM radio-friendly songs, most people wanted nothing to do with the atonal noise that was the broad genre's most ear-catching element. After this latest series of bands, many are sick of a fad that has gone on for way too long, but bear with us - here is one more truly indie band that you must add to your iPod.
Levator is drowsy drowned in distortion. From the historically promising musical breeding grounds of Seattle, the three-piece group has been dubbed as "dream core." Its meditative sound is led by a youthful, high-pitched and pleasant female voice, backed by a drone of synth effects and unhurried rock beats. Without exaggeration, the effect is numbing. The entrancing rhythm and ambient sound instills thoughts of reflection in the listener.
"The Biggest Waves Come at Night," which debuted on Tuesday, is a great CD to blast through speakers when you are in a creative mood. Levator is anything but harsh. The album is one rock lullaby after another; it is mellow to the max. In the slightly depressing "Dark Hair," one can hear not just the Sonic Youth-like tones of vocalist Sky Lynn, but even the breath blowing from her lungs, cutting through the buzz of distortion. Entering and exiting layers eventually fade out, leaving a very indie, grungy feedback.
"Mocking Bird" is a poppy number that brightens up the end of the album and "Bruises" depicts Levator's ability for subtle catchiness. The motive of the song is the distinguishing factor separating dance music from art music. The melodies are simple, wavering and sometimes uncertain. Other times they are not melodies at all, just extended measure-long notes that guide the surge of sound. One of the album's most promising features is its use of deep saxophone tones reminiscent of experimental jazz rock band, Morphine.
The independently produced album, its packaging created from vegetable ink and printed on recycled cardboard, is decorated by a collage of photos.
"When I think about the songs on 'The Biggest Waves Come At Night,'" said Lynn, "I imagine sitting in my Grandma's old library flipping through a scrapbook. Every song seems to be represented by a series of aging photographs. Some are sad in the way that you miss people that aren't in this place anymore. Some make you giggle behind the tear that's caused by how beautiful your Grandma is holding up your father as a baby. But some are faded or double exposed and then I realize it's a dream. A dream caused by a detailed and mischievous subconscious. They are half fictional and half autobiographical; and sometimes I can't tell where one stops and the other begins."
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