Pitchfork

Opera? Hammond B3 triplets? Isn't this the guy who once said, "The kids of today should defend themselves against the 70s"? Okay, fine. But even if "Pelicanman" surprises Watt's usual fanbase, the man's been gigging with this bass/organ/drums trio for at least two years now. Any perceived 70s-style pomposity brought on by Peter Mazich's organ is rendered irrelevant by the Secondman's stripped-down, practiced econo style. B3 aside, all rock 'n' roll fireworks have been eliminated (assuming you don't consider unaccompanied, assured bass melodies part of rock's canon of pyrotechnics).

One such melody introduces "Pelicanman", then gives way to lightly surging accompaniment from Mazich and drummer Jerry Trebotic. Anyone familiar with the last half of Watt's rock opera, Contemplating the Engine Room, will recognize his continued emphasis on texture-- "Pelicanman" generally retains that album's quieter dynamics.

The swirling effect on the bass is no simple gimmickry; as it commingles with the organ's rolling figures, the two instruments become nearly indistinguishable. Watt then whispers, "Trippy how this boat gets tugged," for three verses before the opening melody returns, signaling a new direction: Mazich's organ inevitably leaps to the fore with its walls of grand sound. Drums and bass join in the swell, which reaches its peak and then washes away into the comforting sound of that bass melody. Third time remains a charm. Hard to tell what exactly the "Pelicanman" represents; as its aural image fades over a winding organ, Watt and company repeatedly chant, "Blending, bending, never-ending..."