When Field Music announced in 2007 the group was going on hiatus, the band stressed that the break was not a break up. In the ensuing months, brothers David and Peter Brewis kept working-- the former as School of Language and the latter as the Week That Was-- each occasionally enlisting the services of the other. And now, a couple of years later, Field Music have indeed reunited (albeit minus keyboard/utility player Andrew Moore, reportedly training to be a chef). You've got to love a band that stays true to its word.
Field Music last left off with 2007's Tones of Town, a relatively manageable 11 songs over a modest 30 or so minutes. The pair now seems refreshed and reenergized for the third Field Music LP, Measure-- it runs a staggering 20 tracks spread out over 70 minutes. Factor in the formidable arrangements, which often make a single song sound like two or three or four crammed together, and before you even press play you know Measure won't be casual listening.
In that regard the brothers Brewis don't disappoint, either. Retaining an affinity for the fussier side of XTC, Field Music values careful precision over outright prodigious velocity, which keeps their music from tipping over into the proggy abyss. Further, it laces their songs with winningly fragmented melodies that don't always resolve or even repeat but still provide a vital point of entry to the band's rigorous compositions. That's the upside.
The downside is that Field Music have a tendency to come off so cerebral, their charms are sometimes buried beneath the non-stop musical flourishes. Constantly inventive/evolving electric and acoustic guitar filigrees, meticulous percussion, strings, finger-snaps, handclaps, and intricate harmonies that bounce from speaker to speaker: Measure is, if nothing else, a truly crafted record.
In fact, Measure crams so many complex twists and turns into each of its tracks that it starts out imposing and rarely lets up, making it a lot easier to give up than give in. That'd be a shame, since even though the band's constant motion can be exhausting, its pleasures aren't as far-flung as they first appear. "Them That Do Nothing", with its interlocking acoustic guitars, steady beat, and genial vibe, is a pop gem, and the surprisingly lithe "Let's Write a Book" sticks to a groove long enough to prove that the Brewises understand well when to keep things simple(r). "The Rest Is Noise" is proud pomp that gives way to a sinewy but satisfying denouement.
It helps that the Brewis brothers have such a sharp understanding of space and, despite the sprawl, pacing, which is why they can get away with music this busy without completely overwhelming the listener. At times Measure feels like a suite, each track a separate part of the same (long) song that settles naturally into dynamic peaks and valleys. Admittedly, once closer "It's About Time" winds down into traffic sounds and hushed piano, you're likely to feel as much relief as exultation that Field Music made it this far without toppling off their precarious high wire and making a mess of themselves. But music this simultaneously careful and out of control would never get made if failure weren't a real risk.
