Side projects are an inevitability for musicians itching to keep their creative juices flowing between tours with their main gigs. But in the case of William Cashion and Bruce Willen’s new joint venture, Peals, it feels less like a time-killing indulgence than a therapeutic necessity. With their respective bands-- glamboyant synth pop fops Future Islands and art punk bruisers Double Dagger-- the two have played active roles in making Baltimore’s Wham City scene one the most vibrant, prolific, and relentlessly excitable music communities to emerge in the past decade. And though they’re situated on opposite ends of the post-punk spectrum, Future Islands and Double Dagger have cross-pollinated before, with the former’s frontman, Sam Herring, lending his outsized, balcony-bound voice to “The Lie/The Truth”, the anthemic standout on the latter’s 2009 release, More. With Peals, however, Cashion and Willen are less interested in exploring any aesthetic overlap between their two bands than distancing themselves from both. Even those living in an inspired, utopian environment like Wham City occasionally need a vacation.
Walking Field thus represents Cashion and Willen’s escape to cottage country, an opportunity to decompress, clear their heads, and experiment with more relaxed, exploratory modes of music-making than their day jobs allow. (True to their mellow-out mission, the duo have taken to performing in a stage set-up that resembles a living room.) The album’s eight tracks are entirely instrumental, and vocals aren’t the only thing missing here-- the record is completely devoid of bass and drums, instead deploying clean acoustic/electric guitar patterns, chimes, percussive mic taps, and third-eye-prying synth lines to establish a blissful sense of weightlessness. But Walking Field isn’t just some random exercise in blurry post-rock atmospherics. Cashion and Willen’s sense of melody is as rich as their textural layering, resulting in pieces that are immediately engaging yet hypnotically serene, and, at times, devastating in their poignancy: Mesmerizing opener “Floating Leaf” is built upon a gorgeous, countrified guitar line that gradually dissolves into an impressionistic smear, its core melody debased into lingering oscillations that resemble the fragmented images of a dream somberly half-remembered the morning after.
Even though they’re operating within deliberately downsized dimensions and a slim instrumental palette, it never feels like Cashion and Willen are limiting themselves-- the songs here range from a graceful, tiki-torch songs (“Blue Elvis”) that could pass for old Galaxie 500 bedtracks, to slow-swelling, deeply affective Stars of the Lid-scaled drones (“Believers”), to a stirring cello-driven centerpiece (“Pendelles”, featuring guest Kate Barutha) that hearkens back to the brooding beauty of 90s chamber-rock ensemble Rachel’s. (The duo’s adeptness at exploring different shades of melancholy is so impressive that Walking Field’s more playful counterpoints-- “Tiptoes in the Parlour”, “Lonestar”-- can’t help but feel incongruously slight in comparison.) Even when Peals retrace their steps, it serves as a springboard to somewhere new: “Koan 1” closes the album with a distant echo of “Floating Leaf”, the melody slowed down but rendered more dramatic, thanks to the reemergence of Barutha’s cello and a climactic, triumphant explosion of electric-guitar fireworks. It’s the perfect ending to this spiritual retreat-- one that serves as a celebratory capper to a successful sojourn, while acknowledging that the noise of the big city beckons once again.
