REVIEWS

The Wardrobe
A Sandwich Short

Tursa Records

Posted: Friday, September 21, 2007
By: Vlad McNeally

In those musical circles that can only be vaguely described as apocalyptic or neo-folk, Tony Wakeford presides like a chairman of the board. Known predominantly for his extensive work as the central force behind Sol Invictus, he has also appeared as an assistant to other such genre luminaries as Current 93 and Death in June over the course of his extensive career. That being said, this release only vaguely touches upon his gloomy, Anglo-centric folk roots. Instead, this collaboration with Andrew Liles, named The Wardrobe, is best compared with his brief past dalliances with the maestro of dark dada music, Nurse With Wound.

A Sandwich Short is less a collection of songs than it is a cinematic journey. It is a sojourn through a gloomy and morose land, a shadowy place where one encounters songs and melodies like fellow wanderers also lost on these same moors. The somber "Wednesday" opens this volume like the white rabbit, tricking the folk-minded listener into following it into down his hole and into the realm of the surreal. Its timbre is deep and its cadence at the speed of an old man considering his mortality on a winter night. In its footsteps dwells the dissonant metallic hum of violins, their off-key peal akin to a concerto tuning up for a performance. While this beginning seems rather straightforward if one's familiar with Wakeford's penchant for the dreary, "A Horse with One Leg" abruptly reminds us that this place is not Sol Invictus. It is an off-kilter accordion creature, one that capers about honking and hooting, innocent and toy-like. Yet despite its merriment, there’s a lingering feeling of something less pleasant pulling at its strings. Similar in its sinister whimsy, "In Defence of Shoplifting" sounds like an urgent shopping cart. Its wheels spin and hiss through knots of lint, chugging about its five minute expanse. When it pauses, it is only for a pick-pocketed moment, and in its furtive moments, one can hear the leery pluck and mutter of strings, and the echoing clang of spoons on steel. On the other hand, pieces like "Rural Murders" do not even attempt to hide behind a friendly facade. It buzzes with nerve-tingling falsetto crystals and rings with the tinkle of equally stressed piano as if on the precipice of its own death.

If pining for vocals, there are only a few verbal morsels that Wakeford and Liles throw our way. Originally written for a collaboration between Wakeford and the aforementioned Nurse With Wound, "Lucifer Before Sunrise" appears here resurrected and rewritten. It crackles like embers in a fireplace, while guitar morosely plods through a few somber bass-throated chords. As this fire snaps and chatters, guests Helen and Alice Potter recite the original’s lyrics as if attempting to translate an ancient spell. Eventually, discordant piano intercepts the guitar, silencing it with its own throaty mutter, leaving Tony Wakeford to finally appear and give us a hint of his acclaimed folk ennui. Finally, "Wednesday (Again)" returns to close out this chapter of A Sandwich Short. Offering up a reprise of its partner's piano and another slender sliver of Wakeford's voice, this listener was left wishing that Wakeford's sublime baritone was given a bit more room on this disc.

Though this journey ended up being a more peculiar one than I suspected, A Sandwich Short is still an interesting jaunt through the dark ambient corners of experimentalism. Like Nurse With Wound, one should not expect anything straightforward. There's still enough of Wakeford's traditionalist charm to keep it from being a total oddity, but on the other hand, it might not be strange enough for those pining for something truly peculiar. That said, it's still a worthwhile collaboration, and one that won't displease fans of either Wakeford's or Liles' work.