Mood, and the degree of comfort expressing that mood are crucial elements in ambient electronic music, let's face it. Fooling the eye, and fooling the ear are largely different things, and when the ear is set free to explore individually, it is the hardest sense to fool.
I might tell you I love you darling, but my tone dictates whether or not you believe me.
Often mentioned in the same breath as the ridiculously sensational Arcade Fire (read, the Montreal connection as well as through horn player Pietro Amato), Torngat is a three piece of Quebecois who whisper sweet nothings in the form of electro-jazz that would melt the heart of the most hardened cynic. Entirely instrumental, employing unconventional pieces such as the French Horn and the xylophone, they are like the Dirty Three crashing a saggy pants hip-hop party. A little bit like Sigur Ros on ( ) if you can imagine their zeitgeist exposed without Jonsi's voice in the foreground.
But referring to a CD as moody is in itself a trap, often an aesthetically pleasing synonym for depressing or dark. To call Torngat's self-titled album moody, is to say more like a pre-teen boy: on Monday and Saturday he might be dark, but that span in between swings from rebellious, to playful, to just plain dumb and frustrating. The songs here come from placid jazz affairs "New Groove" to tense, raucous clashes "Backpain" to cinematically styled "Sparks Like a Song." It's all here, concisely laid out at less than one hour, and a dizzy enough assemblage to make you want to check in at your local psych ward for observation.
While I'd argue that much of the Arcade Fire's album (I'm sticking with the comparison, though I feel its a little forced) is about one long restrained mood coming free, this loose offshoot is about complicity of mood; mood as a languishing, terrific by-product of humanity. One can't help but feel enchanted in the face of work so comfortable with itself, regardless of its source.
Torngat feels it and expresses it, and does so without apology. All their darlings surely believe them, and probably fight each other for attention. There are blue moods for blue people, and bliss for bliss. |