The Deadfly Ensemble
A Seed Catalog for Extinct Annuals
Trisol Records
Posted: Wednesday, April 23, 2008
By: Matthew Johnson
Features Editor
Gloriously bizarre death rock, acoustic in style and nautical in theme.
When Lucas Lanthier first announced the formation of The Deadfly Ensemble as an acoustic cabaret act, many fans presumed the new project would offer a glimpse of the softer side of his other band, the noisy death rock outfit Cinema Strange. If anything, the opposite is true. Rather than subduing Lanthier's manic energy, the acoustic instruments and comparative lack of feedback merely bring his frantic yelps and jumpy musical arrangements into sharper focus. The group's second album begins with an introduction of overdriven acoustic strumming and muffled orchestral samples, then lurches into the fractured mythological tale of "Polymelia and the Satyr," Lanthier squealing in quavering falsetto as Marzia Rangel's stately cello tries in vein to keep things grounded. On "Revenge on the Nursemaid," Lanthier takes on one of his favorite roles, the creepily precocious child, as gypsy-tinged guitars shuffle over Dizhan Blue's cabaret-inspired percussion, while "Meaty Bones and Porridge," a gruesome fairy tale, comes closer to straightforward death rock, distorted guitars wailing alongside the moaning cello. While Lanthier's affected vocal acrobatics make a printed lyrics sheet a necessity rather than a convenience, careful study rewards the listener with plenty of clever stories of a comically dark Victorian bent, vaguely suggestive of Edward Gorey, Oscar Wilde, and perhaps a hint of Tim Burton. Despite its botanical title, A Seed Catalog for Extinct Annuals adds the pirate-themed folk ditties of Dame Darcy and the sailing stories of Tony Millionaire's Maakies cartoons to the mix; "The Adventures of Jonas Mauken" tells the tale of a lucky but hapless sailor cursed to sink every ship he boards, with pianos pounded by Christian Norton standing in for crashing surf and gale-force winds, while "Dirty Weather" tells a similar tale, this time from the point of view of one of the drowned victims, the erhu (a Chinese stringed instrument) of Yi-Hsiuan Lee providing an appropriately shivery sense of nautical ghostliness. "Queen Maude's Pirates" is, appropriately enough, a pirate song, this time done up as acoustic death rock with plenty of wheedling treble guitar, while the surrealist fairy tale of "Ursusarktos the Bachelor" goes in the opposite direction with bassist James Powell keeping things deep and moody. Finishing the album off are "Dishonest Corset," a faintly Indian-sounding assemblage of twanging strings and wordless yips, and "Tiny Little Things," an extended, mostly instrumental performance that feels rather like a gothic jazz session, if only because each musician is given ample chance to show off his or her chops. Tacked on at the end is a lecture by Lanthier, entitled "The Pre-Decimalization Monetary System of Great Britain," which is exactly what its title says it is, and also features whistling and scatting in the background. Hardly the drowsy and sober neo-folk you might expect from an all-acoustic crew of eccentric goths, this is death rock through and through, with all the abrasiveness and theatricality that entails. Fans of Sex Gang Children, Virgin Prunes, and Christian Death, don't be fooled by the cello; A Seed Catalog for Extinct Annuals was made for you.