Despite the band's protestations, This is not a Film is a richly
cinematic album brimming with lush trip-hop wrapped in a dark gothic overcoat.
The natural entry point into the band's sound is Melissa Mileski's voice.
Mileski sings with a throaty alto. Her sound often contains a
dispirited sense of collapse which invokes a languid torch singer in a
post-modern cabaret. With her lyrics barely enunciated, the words
themselves take a backseat to her enthralling series of moans and sustained
cries.
Although they have worked with outside producers in the past (most notably
Chris Vrenna, who has also worked with Die Warzau and Nine Inch Nails), the band requires
no assistance with their sophomore full-length. They
possess a seasoned instinct for creating mood and tension in a song. Take
"Melc" as an example: the track opens with a minute of quiet chiming, which
provides a contemplative foundation upon which the eventual subdued rhythm track can dance.
Then Mileski's voice comes in -- a quiet croon that twists itself
around the drums. When an additional keyboard melody enters, this pushes
the tension up a notch. After the chorus, this new line leaves, but the drum pattern begins to mutate, adding spare fills which heighten the
sense of anticipation. By the time the song reaches its second chorus, a
soft, distorted guitar joins the mix as a snare gets added to the drum
pattern. All of these elements combine to create a climax of serious release,
despite bringing only a modest crescendo in volume. As the best songwriters will
tell you, it doesn't have to be loud to be heavy. This is a lesson
Underwater learned in a big way.
Other tracks reach similar moments of transcendence. The opening
"Lightyears from Home" finds Mileski's vocals lilting like Gry Bagxien, who
has recently worked with F. M. Einheit. Her double-tracked vocals on "Gun
Metal", one desperate and wailing, the other quiet and hidden, easily send
shivers down the spine. The rest of the band -- Alec Irvin, Jeremy Wilkins,
and Matthew Jeanes -- serves primarily to give Mileski room to work her charms, but this does not mean that they are bit players. The consistent, intelligent
restraint shown in the choices they make is critical to this equation.
They understand how two extra notes or a quiet octave shift can add
volumes to the stories the songs tell. And trust me, these are stories you'll want to hear again ain again.