I hold in my hands the plans for a device so powerful, so diabolically destructive that soon the world will bend to my every whim. That is, as soon I can manage to figure out what the electrical diagrams in the plan mean. And then I suppose I'd need several million dollars worth of equipment and raw materials. And I suppose The MacArthur Foundation denies genius grants for this type of thing. Bastards.
Well, at any rate, I'd like to thank Stephen Lawrie and Jo Doran of The Telescopes for providing me with the plans for this death ray in the artwork of their latest album. Never hurts to dream. I'll wager a chocolate-frosted Krispy Kreme that Kim Jong Il is poring over this shit right now looking for the key to controlling the whole Korean Peninsula. There's something sort of apt about The Telescopes including such a diagram in their artwork, though-- it fits the futurist theme of the music, for one thing, and with a record like this, they sound like they might be poised to take over the world.
Everyone's favorite band from Burton-upon-Trent, England has a lengthy history, dating back to the glory days of gazing at shoes whilst coaxing feedback from six-strings. Back then, there were five Telescopes, and they distinguished themselves by experimenting with instrumental textures outside of the guitars and effects that the other shoegazers were using. They split in 1995, with Doran and Lawrie moving on to establish Unisex, whose debut album, Stratosfear, impressed me a few years ago with its deep-space lounge and day-glo exotica.
It's a bit puzzling, actually, as to why the two chose to go back to the Telescopes name for Third Wave, as this serves pretty well as a follow-up to Stratosfear. Lawrie keeps his hands on the helm at all times, and guides you through a series of inventive, oddball tracks that hold together remarkably well for such a wide-ranging collection. There's the spy-on-Mars jazz noir of "A Good Place to Hide" and the drifting, soupy electro of "You & I Are the Foxboy Noises", and in between everything from clarinets and violins to Atari samples and home-made grooveboxes.
Anyone who ever played "Space Invaders" will recognize the core rhythm of "Tesla Death Ray", which centers on a sample of the descending alien ships, in addition to Black & Decker drills, toy car, stylophone and some deeply vocodered vocals. Opener "A Cabin in the Sky" features the close harmonies of Doran and Lawrie moving cautiously through a Terminator-bleak futureworld of cold piano, processed laughter, ectoplasmic strings, and Theremin. Horns hang in a loosely organized cloud over the tabla-inflected beats of "3D Jesus Ashtray", but note: those tablas are employed for their specific sonic qualities, and not to give the track an Eastern feel.
Lawrie and co-producer Angus Wallace give the whole thing a deep, bass-rich treatment that makes every last electronic flourish and fuzzed-out blast go down easy. It's humorous, unique, laid-back, beautiful and chaotic by equal measures, and for music that was so obviously a serious labor to put together, it all sounds amazingly fluid and natural. Third Wave may not put you any closer to ruling the world, but hey, that just gives you more time to listen to it. Call me I think I'm willing to trade just a little bit of global domination for that.
