Review: of Montreal - Aureate Gloom
By Megan Fair, Copy Chief
[Polyvinyl; 2015]
Rating: 2/5
Key Tracks: “Last Rites At The Jane Hotel,” “Virgilian Lots”
Kevin Barnes, the fella with the creative reigns regarding of Montreal, has been at it for a while. The group has been active since the mid-to-late ‘90s and has changed its sound a number of times. Even through transitions in tone and topic on all 13 of Montreal releases, one thing has remained--absurdity.
In nearly two decades of creating music, each album has been shaped by the experiences of Barnes, the designated poet of the band. According to an interview with Stereogum, he revealed his wife and he had separated after 11 years of marriage and one child, leading to a wild period of self-discovery. This experience dramatically shaped Aureate Gloom, of Montreal’s latest release. The darkness that seeps through every track finds root in such a huge life change.
On this wildly varied LP, of Montreal channels everything from the sounds of NYC in the ‘70s to moments of Animal Collective (“Aluminum Crown”), Gorillaz (“Last Rites At The Jane Hotel”) and even Godspeed You! Black Emperor (“Chtonian Dirge For Uruk The Other”). With so many genres laid as the platform for Barnes’ wordy and excessive lyrics, sometimes Aureate Gloom’s mood feels less ornate and more caustic and cluttered.
“Bassem Sabry,” the only single of the rummage, possesses a distinctly of Montreal vibe with groovy guitars and verbose word usage, but the somber tone of the album definitely hints through the seemingly funky vibe of the song’s underbelly by way of minor chords. On the other hand, this song feels fairly far removed from the other tracks on the record, making it an odd pick for a single.
Feeling complete and most directed, “Virgilian Lots” shows what of Montreal would sound like if it stopped changing the tone and tempo of songs several times before their conclusions. The track is simple and shorter, appearing big and overwhelmingly bitter and hurt.
“Last Rites At The Jane Hotel” reveals some of the absurdity in tone and tempo shifting, but it feels at home with the tone and lyrics. “Why would you ask? / Why should you care how I’m doing? / Do I bother you with those kinds of vapid questions anymore? / I wanna matter, I wanna be your friend, not a poison,” croons Barnes after admitting to “seeking out [his] own authentic season in hell.” These kinds of audible reflections over dramatic movements reflect the strain of his separation in a lilting, audible way.
Several moments of the album feel terribly unpleasant. The weird Led Zeppelin riff rip on “Like Ashoka’s Inferno Of Memory” creates a grating, stressful tone in its dissonance, and the complete genre turnovers throughout “Monolithic Egress” are baffling, almost as if of Montreal had several really good ideas and decided to dump them all into one five minute medley.
While the imagination and varied musical gifts of Montreal possesses are to be admired, the lack of focus and cluttered environment creates something too absurd to be enjoyed all at once. Listening to the record feels stressful and grating at times, so perhaps Barnes’ goal of creating a release that audibly reveals the ache and torture of an important relationship unraveling is accomplished with gusto. Even though the art reflects something very real and very valid, the cranky and overwhelming hodgepodge that is Aureate Gloom is difficult to recommend to the everyday indie rock fan.
