Dryvetyme Onlyne

A Sunny Day in Glasgow
Ashes Grammar
Mis Ojos Discos; 2009

From the outset of Ashes Grammar, a ten-second snippet crafted in tribute to Arvo Part (an Estonian composer), it’s readily apparent that A Sunny Day In Glasgow is determined to envelop the listener in wave after wave of musical majesty. This record is an expansive, twenty-two track opus that’s marked by a passionate brand of atmospheric pop music to which many post-rock bands often aspire, but never really do attain. The lush, rich wall of sound approach popularized by My Bloody Valentine is merged with the fuzzy, melancholy drone-pop of Ride before being mixed with thick, creamy dollops of prog-influenced electronica and the sweet ethereal vocals and atmospheres reminiscent of current critical darlings like M83 and Au Revoir Simone. The result is an album that calls to mind the sort of delicately refined menu existing at a chic restaurant that excels at artfully blending haute cuisine with classical charm.

Ashes Grammar is at once kinetic and poppy, while possessing the sort of dream-like state of being propagated by early ‘90s shoegaze and contemporary dub-flavored dance music (minus the often obtuse bass undercurrents). Tribal and dance rhythm patterns abound, whether we’re enjoying the traditional instrumentation bending twee pop into Afro-pop or hearing the programmed beats sounding out a clarion call to the dance floor. The trick to potentially understanding such an impressive scope of sounds and vision is to take this record as an almost sentient whole. The key tracks are typically set up by and/or finished off by a smattering of snippets, allowing for the various sonic textures at play to speak to each other harmoniously.

Granted, this arrangement can prove to be a substantial stumbling block for people who would like to enjoy this beautiful music for what it is. Splitting up what should be a four-minute song into a one-minute fragment that slowly blends into the three-minute main section (which is its own track) might be quite frustrating for the average pop music fan. I can easily hear how Ashes Grammar could come across as jumbled, distaff, and even overwhelming for people to process – there’s simply a great deal of music with which to contend. Despite the overt lightness of tone on this record, it is a very dense and detailed project, one that requires some heavy lifting and some intense attention on the listener’s part.

As my friend Bob has suggested, it would have been interesting to see A Sunny Day In Glasgow release the album as a series of interlocking EP’s – each given segment (I potentially count five) would retain its own coherent personality so as to provide greater clarity to the more minute subtexts. I’m not asking for a jigsaw puzzle set to music, but for a template more conducive to appreciating the themes of the larger whole. To prove my point, the proper touchstones for such a set-up exist in brilliant selections like “Failure,” “Close Chorus,” “Shy,” “The White Witch,” “Ashes Maths,” and “Headphone Space,” all of which provide the solid substance around which the rest of the album joyfully dances.

Regardless of my concerns with style and construction, Ashes Grammar is an outstanding record that was a pleasure to my ears and a challenge to my brain. I want a record to send my spirit soaring and my mind racing and do so without toying with my emotions like a crazy girlfriend or screwing with my brain like an upper level calculus final. The music of A Sunny Day in Glasgow has succeeded in transporting me up with the band to view spectacular vistas, as well as been an equal partner on a fantastical musical journey.