aaamusic | On 21, Oct 2012

Mean Sun is the new offering from Vancouver sextet Brasstronaut, a dreamy collection of brass infused psychedelic. The tracks sweepingly wash over the listener thanks to an evocative miasma of hypnotic riffs, ambient sound effects, imaginative harmonies that veer between static minimalism and chromaticism, and lead singer Edo Van Breemen’s soft sighing vocals.
It’s a great chill-out album, as immediately signalled by opening number Bounce, a wistful drone centred number which makes very effective use of gradually building undulating textures, including the warm melancholia of the sweeping brass accompanying melodies. By contrast, song number two Francisco provides a livelier, darker musical landscape, thanks to a stronger rhythmic drive and edgier harmonies, including creepy chromatic inflexions and spiky riffs.
This darker vibe evolves further into title track Mean Sun, a disjointed and dissonant affair that provides a welcome harshness in contrast to the haziness that has come before. The Fossil then returns us to the comforting wilderness of glowing synths, before veering into shuddering textures which accompany a Morrissey-esque mournful melodic line; perhaps this is why it’s called The Fossil.
By the halfway point there’s a feeling that the music is starting to seem a bit samey, with a bit more variety in terms of harmony and texture required in order to keep things interesting. The Grove for example, I think would be a more striking piece of work, had it not been immediately preceded by several quite similar sounding songs. However, the final section of the track is superb, a unique combo of oscillating electro riffs and mournful brass melodies. This is then followed by the incredibly distinctive and redolent Moonwalker, which seems to be channelling Space Oddity era Bowie to some extent, although far more minimalist, with sparse synths, light guitar riffs, distortion effects and light rhythmic backing. An unusual and jarring ballad, it’s one of the highlights of the album.
Revelstoke Dam moves further into folk territory, an archaic harmonic style juxtaposed with a quirky instrumental texture that varies throughout, with strange ambient effects and electro sounds mixed with further brass outbursts, all marrying together to create a pleasantly chaotic and deliberately eccentric mix. Thankfully, the band then have the good sense to strip things back for Hymn for Huxley, a simple and pensive ballad, featuring a backing dominated by acoustic guitar and piano, with later interjections from synths.
Penultimate track Falklands sees the album come full circle to more Bounce-like territory. Breeman’s nostalgia infused vocals marry beautifully with the almost sentimental character of the song, complemented nicely by lush brass and expressionist harmonies. Mixtape is more ambiguous and unusual, providing a nicely off-kilter finale.
This type of dreamy electro music can become overly repetitive and grating after a while, so it’s refreshing to come across a band that have a plethora of fresh ideas and imaginative ways of keeping things exciting, frequently pulled off with song-writing panache and technical sophistication.

★★★★★

Rupert Uzzell