There's a lyric early on in Under Stellar Stream that neatly encapsulates the album's subtle hypnotism. "The shift-shapes still shifting like shift-shapes now," Richard Youngs sings over a droning see-saw of two-note organ and bass. On paper, the line seems trivial, an empty truism on the level of "it is what it is." But he repeats the words as if trying to penetrate them, creating something bigger than literal meaning. In the span of just a few seconds, he makes a fleeting tongue-twister sound like a time-honored hymn.
Under Stellar Stream is filled with such fertile repetition. In most of the songs, Youngs sings one simple phrase in one simple melody, adding small variances in the words and even smaller ones in the notes. This might seem like a recipe for monotony, especially since his backing instrumentation is sparse and minimal-- sometimes more an echo than a tangible presence-- and his lyrics are cryptic and elusive. But Youngs' knack for catchy, familiar-sounding lines, which sound plucked from traditional folk songs, makes Under Stellar Steam mesmerizing.
It also makes lengthy repetitions sound surpisingly like fully fleshed songs. Take the second track, "All Day Monday and Tuesday", wherein Youngs sings the title phrase 42 straight times, each instance followed by an addendum which itself gets repeated. "All Day Monday and Tuesday, the fuel of day, the fuel of day," he hums over reverberating bass plucks. "All Day Monday and Tuesday, the machine of time, the machine of time." As he patiently draws out each syllable, Youngs sounds most like a monk, chanting a mantra in search of meanings below the words' surface. That exercise-like quality is even stronger on the meditative "My Mind Is in Garlands". Here Youngs tries to empty his mind by examining it: "My mind is in my mind/ My mind is in Garlands... My mind the underwhelming... My mind sees a clearing."
After all this searching repetition, Youngs ends the album with his least repetitive piece. But even though most of the lines in "The Bells of Spring" don't recur, the lyrics echo previous themes. "The underwhelming... I see the clearing," he sings in the same bold tones he began with. With its plaintive chords-- reminiscent of the simple piano figures on his 1990 classic Advent-- "The Bells of Spring" has the feel of a celebratory breakthrough, as if Youngs' devout chants have finally taken him to the other side. So it's possible that Under Stellar Stream is a journey, and "The Bells of Spring" is its climax. But I'd rather think of it more as a cycle without beginning or end-- if only to hope that he might someday return to this entrancing mode.
