1) Moya; 2) Blaise Bailey Finnegan III.
General verdict: The subtle, but important transition from cowboy post-rock to symphonic post-rock.
This relatively short (ultra-short for GY!BE
standards, actually) EP tends to get lost between the two monumental albums
that surround it, but it doth have its place in the bandʼs history — its two
tracks are quintessentially transitional between the mournful ghosttown
soundscapes of F♯A♯∞ and the monumental tsunamis of Lift Your
Skinny Fists. Admittedly, if you are not a major fan of the band, it is
skippable; but if you ever wondered about any «missing links» on the way from out
there to over here, Slow Riot is just the thing to supply you with the
necessary evidence.
ʽMoyaʼ,
the track named after the bandʼs guitar player, is arguably the very first «trademark»
crescendo in GY!BE history — slowly growing out of a half-harmonious,
half-dissonant pool of drawn-out cello and violin chords and eventually werewolfishly
transforming itself into crashing barrages of shoegazing guitar pandemonium. All
it lacks to ascend the heights of Lift Your Skinny Fists is the
production: overdubs and echoes have not yet been mastered to the level where
they become subconsciously associated with Olympic gods. (I would also add that
the hook potential of the riffs and drones is weaker than whatever would come
to be, but this is subjective).
The
second track largely milks the same kind of groove, except that this time the
proceedings are occasionally interrupted by field recordings — this time, we
get a guy who goes under the moniker of ʽBlaise Bailey Finnegan IIIʼ, complains
about the evil nature of The System, and then reads one of his «poems» that
happens to be a variation on the lines of Iron Maidenʼs ʽVirusʼ (written by their
then-current vocalist Blaze Bayley). This is good, actually — it shows that the
band has a subtle sense of humor, and that their social agenda had not
completely turned them into one-track minded zealots. Other than that, the
track is twice as long as ʽMoyaʼ and therefore allows itself not one, but two
crescendos — the two-crescendo thing would become standard for Lift Your
Skinny Fists — before slowly and smoothly fizzling out with
Gorecki-influenced romantic string passages.
The
most important step forward is that Slow Riot pretty much drops any
signs of «dark country» that were so prevalent on the first album, instead
opting to take most of its inspiration from two sources — shoegaze and contemporary
classical. By doing this, GY!BE make a serious claim to universal rather than
regional appeal — and, as it would soon turn out, set the stage for their
masterpiece, though at this point it is not yet clear if they are truly capable
of one. After all, both tracks set pretty much the same mood and achieve the
same goal with the same means (crazy guy rambling on the second track
notwithstanding). But even at this point, nobody else in 1999 really had the
guts and the means to pull off anything on this grandiose kind of scale.
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