Although Alex Bonney, Tim Giles and Isambard Khroustaliov, the wayward wanderers behind Leverton Fox, have been busy with a multitude of other things, this is the first release under that name for four years and it feels like a cheeky reminder; a tasty sample of what we have been missing when electronics, trumpet and percussion are distended, submerged and then teased mercilessly.
“Seals For Spronky” sounds as though an LP of fairground music has been dipped in the sea, the chiming of the organ wavering through the waves as rafts of balloons are manhandled. It is oddly restful though and strangely sleep-inducing. It rotates and shakes its head as the bubbles rise and it tries to make sense of the murky gloom. The sounds here could be anything and part of the fun is trying to work out whether they were something once or if they are just a series of unique electronic eructations, tastefully tailored to suit the ever-changing mood.
There is a slight air of tension in “Serenade To A Blobfish”, with the background tones leering and phasing while the soft scuttling percussion is slowly submerged by ebbing tides, strips of seaweed dragged across the unfolding wash. The lateral build of disparate elements is what Leverton Fox do best and on “Sounding Balloons At The Kármán Line”, the rubberised spheres are front and centre. There is an easy drift that welcomes the listener and they remember how pleasant it can be to briefly be in unison before stretching in opposite directions. The fluid percussion is a constant reminder of their desire to reinvent on the move and the division of labour is impossible to tell. They redefine the idea of a trio that comprises three egoless players working towards a tacit unacknowledged goal.The rhythmic dynamic of “Sleeper Train” is a little unexpected; but on the other hand, here the unexpected is kind of expected. It shimmers in a half-light and the distorted buffets and bulges attempt to keep up. It is a pretty, almost disarming little rhythm and requires little embellishment; while the brief “Socrates The Quail” sounds like somebody being chased around the garden by angry pets; a little disconcerting because I guess it could happen to anybody. It does make you think you should be nicer to your companion animals.
The album ends with a complete antithesis; a deep fluctuating drone that is subsumed by a raucous rattle that is twisted and rent while the percussion engages in almost jazzy pursuits, impressing a brief desire for structure and progress. Sounds are unleashed and repeated, and a trumpet dances in the half-light, peeking around corners and lurking behind half-closed doors. It is an immersive piece that is a s close to regular as Leverton Fox are willing to stray, but the massed ranks of electronics prevent anything like normality settling in.Eternal Gong Bath Of The Sunbed Mind is a relatively succinct release, but one that reminds us how much Leverton Fox has to offer us with their kaleidoscopic outlook. Here’s to something a little longer soon; but for now, revel in their unique soundworld.
-Mr Olivetti-
