Album Review :: Tess Parks & Anton Newcombe - I Declare Nothing

Tess Parks & Anton Newcombe

I Declare Nothing

June 29 2015 (A Recordings)

7/10

Words: Ed Francis

Toronto-based folk-rocker Tess Parks and Brian Jonestown Massacre frontman Anton Newcombe began to drip-feed out the demos (recorded during collab sessions in Berlin) that would ultimately form 'I Declare Nothing' in early 2014, and anticipation for a full album has been slowly simmering away since. Sonically, T & A seem a perfect pairing (even if their first names make for a slightly unfortunate abbreviated moniker), having occupied the same sweet spot of woozy, gently unspooling psych-folk throughout their respective musical lives - an assumption that 'I Declare Nothing' serves as pleasing confirmation of.

As you might have anticipated, Parks' vocal contributions are the most striking element of the piece, remaining steadfastly abrasive and off-kilter- her snarls sliding in and out of pitch in that particular way that has always gifted her music with a touch more authenticity than similar purveyors of the bruised-violet vocal sound. On cuts such as 'Peace Defrost' she almost channels Iggy as her vocal line simmers away so deep in the mix that it's in danger of slipping register entirely.

In terms of the broader soundscapes that complement these idiosyncratic vocal stylings, there's little here to distinguish 'I Declare Nothing' from Parks' earlier work such as 'Blood Hot', with the clanking percussion that sounds like the rattle of chains and slow churning guitar lines which characterised that album reproduced again here as the basis for the record. Indeed, on this evidence alone, the album might be construed as more of a collaborative extension of these solo efforts rather than a full-blown leap into new territory.

Where Newcombe's influence appears to have been most strongly manifested is in the quirks of production. The soft clank of a single acoustic guitar is foregrounded throughout in the mix, floating resonantly over the top of the whole piece in a manner that makes it feel like the conscience of the album as it provides a counterpoint to Parks' growls.

A further prominent addition is a plethora of go-to psychedelic instrumentation features, which evolve Parks' trademark sound in a super-fi direction. Synths and string sounds create a fug of melancholy around the steel of chewed-up-and-spat-out lyrics such as "what do you want to know?/what do you wanna be?/I am everyone/you are nothing"('German Tangerine') whilst soft electronic bips, whirrs and hums enliven tracks such as 'Gone' and 'Voyage de L'ame'.

'Cocaine Cat' is debatably the standout track- a disconcerting, doped-up grind of a track which has been slowed down to an industrial wheeze, it aims for pensiveness and discomfort and hits both at once, providing the strongest exemplification of the potential in the melding of Newcombe's hazy Brian Jonestown Massacre aesthetic and Park's grit.

The overall piece has some weaknesses, chiefly, there's not really enough variance from the base template of 'slow, smouldering folk jams', though there are a few welcome attempts to tweak the formula on tracks such as the more up-tempo 'Mellorist'. Even if the album eventually starts to become repetitious around the 20-minute mark or so, it remains, however, innately listenable throughout- and as an example of what can be achieved through the meeting of like-minds, in a creative sense it's nothing short of laudable.