Pitchfork

Signs of decadence in the Western world are prevalent in American culture, even our beloved "counterculture" of independent music. Our song lyrics give us away. Consider, for example, the entire self-absorbed sub-genre of "emo," or the pathetic self-loathing of icons like Radiohead. Whatever their general subject matter, the subject is generally the same: it's all about "me." If history tells us anything, it's that a decadent society doesn't last long.

Something tells me that Set Fire to Flames agrees, and has a bead on the fall of the empire. Part of it derives from their association with the same Canadian collective that produced Godspeed You Black Emperor! and Silver Mt. Zion (some of you might recognize surname-free individuals like Aidan, Beckie and Sophie). The other part has to do with the royally fucked-up liner notes and madmen vignettes from Set Fire to Flame's debut LP, Sings Reign Rebuilder. The 13 member instrumental group uses the rants of three numbered madmen-- Lyingdyingwonderbody one, two and three-- to haunt its already intense and hypnotic instrumental drones. When the last (#3) finishes his above-cited rant, Set Fire to Flames loops the phrase "what's going on," a question that applies as aptly to our culture as to Sings Reign Rebuilder.

The album is brilliant, and arises from an incredible concept. Someone in Set Fire to Flames was apparently not convinced that they were despondent enough, so part of the project-- the whole project, really-- centered around isolation. All thirteen members, in addition to sound engineers, techs, etc., piled into a decrepit two-story apartment in Montreal and remained there, uninterrupted, for five days. According to the band, the idea was to push "tolerance levels and limitations" to see "what would actually happen if [they] attempted to record improvised drones under those conditions-- and what impact it might have on [their] heads."

It took them five days to reach a fine delirium; it took me about three. Once it settles in, Sings Reign Rebuilder is a gripping testament to the power of emotional expression in music. About half of the recording is improvised, made up largely of improvised percussion (scratching guitar strings, tapping on microphones) and incidental noise (creaking floors, foot traffic, police cars). The length of the drones is daunting, but after you acclimate to the idea that they're not reaching for the same full-bore crescendos as GYBE!, et al, it draws you in.

The band gets right down to business on "Vienna Arcweld," musing over percussion and noise for about ten minutes, before a drum kit gives the track some shape. The raw texture apparent on "Vienna" binds the entire album-- both the improvised and composed pieces. On "Omaha," the dominant motif broods in and out of dissonance for the first few minutes, with drums deep in the background playing almost independently of the rhythm. By the end, the drums and the melody have joined, with the former gaining strength until they reach an almost tribal intensity-- restrained, yet ardent and passionate.

Even the most closely composed piece, "There is No Dance in Frequency and Balance," has a gritty texture that blends magically with the rest of the album. The dark, dirty, Tortoise-style funk is stylistically unique on the disc, but contrasted with all of the nebulous improvisation and downcast melancholy, it's like an oasis in the desert. The band sees the finest fruits of the isolation-concept on "Shit-heap: Gloria of the New Town Planning," the ultimate in slow-building tension. It has all of the elements; ambient percussion, tiny rhythmic modulations, the subtle increase in tempo, each adding to a bitter intensity.

The message to the rest of the world's avant-rockers and post-rockers is this: find yourself a good ideology, then lock yourself in a hole for a few days and make sure to bring your sound engineer (and don't forget to find a few psychos for some choice field recordings). Something about the extremes of experience added dramatically to the emotional output of Set Fire to Flames, and resulted in a marvelously inventive and powerful album.