Thought Forms - Thought Forms

One must always approach the quiet-then-loud market cautiously. It is not only a difficult market to survive in, let alone make money in, but it is an easy market to get lumped into as second rate Mogwai or Godspeed. Anyone willing to do their homework will find umpteen similarly specified collectives out there covering this whole range of ephemeral shoegazing substance and prog rock slashing.

The biggest problem, certainly from a reviewer’s point of view, is simple; it all begins to sound the same. It would be a grand first step if bands stood back and decided, what would make us any different? A nice side-sweep into math-alt-rock by Battles was welcomed universally only a few years ago due in course to their head strong belief in attempting something different without stepping too far from the genre altogether. Indeed, even on Ragged Words, this reviewer has covered a sufficient number of atmospheric glacial monsters already.

This review therefore, may seem like it is headed for a considerably negative forecast but to be assured; it isn't. And while the casual listener has probably become accustomed to the wash of post-rock instrumental bands in the last decade emerging from North America and Scandinavia – this lot, Thought Forms, hail from London. The trio’s self-titled debut is a step forward for the genre. With a song such as ‘Mr Steve has Eaten Your Dog’, fantastic title aside, we are given a fine example of what can bravely be done here with a little originality. It is all about setting a new tone for the post-rock scene, instead of just mimicking others, Thought Forms have structured a gorgeous album whipping their noises and distortions into shape like naughty house pets. 'Mr Steve...' meanders and smashes barriers, mountains, engulfing villages with a sharp attacking serpentine tongue. It is huge and overpowering and yet, thankfully, has not blown itself away and forgotten all about melody. This is, quite possibly, what Queens of the Stone Age SHOULD sound like.

‘Industry’ begins with a two-chord chug, dragged overboard by colourful reverberations and a noise that, like oil, settles on top, all the while that underlying melody pulses beneath the song like water below, pulling the body of the composition along. It must be said also; the band have remembered, unlike others of the same vein, not to make each and every track ten minute ordeals. The whole album fits together snuggly with three, four and five minute numbers.

Everyone yearns for those standout bits and there are remarkable moments throughout - the crunching aerial assault of ‘Dust Magic’ or the Aphex Twin wind tunnel that is ‘Maggie’. Right in the middle, there is a great highlight in ‘We Would be so Happy if’. Here on the reverse of seemingly everything else, we are offered another dimension altogether. Beginning with a haunting, frosty vocal recalling touches of My Bloody Valentine, the song then bounds and echoes into a frightening climax pushing through shimmering layers of sound, sculpting a beauty of a number. It does not sound like Mogwai. It does not sound like a single God damn thing on the radio these days and that's what makes it all the better.

OK, so this does contain the quiet-then-loud-then-quiet-then-loud stuff too, BUT, there is a lot more on offer here too. As a debut it stands very firmly on its feet as a steady, assured piece of musicianship. It is definitely a monster of an album and definitely a band to keep an eye on.