After avoiding biology my entire life, I'm getting my first exposure to the science of evolution this year. I find most interesting the metaphors that are drawn to give the students the best possible conception of evolution. One example was used to illustrate the possibility that humans were created through a series of accidents. Naysayers suggest that humans have as much chance of sprouting from evolution as a monkey has of rewriting Shakespeare's sonnets if armed with a barrel of letters that could be arranged in such an order. My professor made the point that evolution works such that once one of the monkey's letters falls into the correct position, it sticks and eventually, the monkey has all of the sonnets. While the example sounds ridiculous, Simian's debut full-length works in much the same way. Please pardon the pun.
Chemistry Is What We Are takes very disparate elements and flings them together. Sometimes it sticks; sometimes it doesn't. "Drop and Roll," the lead-in track, begins with a childlike vocal and an accordion playing a steady I-IV line (think circus march) before crashing in with ride-heavy drums and a set of voices singing in harmony. Organs reiterate the sinewy melody, and is accompanied by some lulling "na-na-na's." Things break down with some simple drum machine noises and lyrics about fire. And while this doesn't sound much like the Beta Band, there's an atmosphere that parallels the space-age pastiche of Simian's labelmates.
"The Wisp" lashes out with Aphex Twin-style synth pulses and a multitracked chorus spilling out four-part Beach Boys harmonies. The song is sparse, but layered with effects like raygun fire and clanking glass. Unfortunately, on this track, it tends to be more distracting than enhancing.
That's not to say that things aren't interesting in the world of Simian. Their fantastic lyrics demand dissection and the percussion heavy atmosphere anchors the sporadic noises. Take the lyrics of "One Dimension": "I see the world in one dimension/ I only see through my dementia.../ Feelings seem to run my mind/ Clarity is bliss, but/ Chemistry is what we are." It's far from Blink 182's philosophies about love in "All the Small Things."
To further ground the disparity, the ghost of John Lennon plays a vital role in the songwriting of these four Manchester lads. A majority of the tracks, if stripped of their studio playtime, would be revealed as very structurally simple songs, with infectious yet sometimes unconventional melodies. "Mr. Crow," one of the standouts here, seems to draw the most inspiration from Lennon, resembling some of his solo tracks with a standard, driving drum pattern, strummed acoustic guitar, and harpsichord synths along with those layered harmony vocals the band seems to hold so dear.
Simian records in a studio named Trial and Error-- the phrase isn't far off the mark in describing the musical extras of Chemistry. The performances are always energetic, but lack a sense of focus that could come with a premeditated plan for recording their music. The end product of this process delivers 50 minutes of constant movement. Still, there are points at which calm would be a good thing.
