Open up your mind's ear as widely as possible, and try to imagine Animal Collective and the Incredible String Band jamming on toy instruments at the Residents' house, with Mark Kozelek as guest vocalist. That should give you a rough idea of what's in store for you within the warmly weird environs of Savaging Spires' self-titled debut album. Savaging Spires, like their music, exist in a cloud of mystery -- like the aforementioned Residents, they are purposely vague about their identities and even their number, though they ...
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Open up your mind's ear as widely as possible, and try to imagine Animal Collective and the Incredible String Band jamming on toy instruments at the Residents' house, with Mark Kozelek as guest vocalist. That should give you a rough idea of what's in store for you within the warmly weird environs of Savaging Spires' self-titled debut album. Savaging Spires, like their music, exist in a cloud of mystery -- like the aforementioned Residents, they are purposely vague about their identities and even their number, though they have at least performed sans masks. It's generally assumed that they're British, and that the core of Savaging Spires is a duo, but beyond that, all one can do is delve into the music itself. Acoustic instruments are the order of the day here, but this is no carefully manicured folk album. Rather, it's a willfully ragged record where cello, guitar, and other unplugged axes jut out from the underbrush, with just enough of a shambling quality to keep things off-kilter and odd-sounding, but enough aesthetic organization to keep the songs moving forward. The vocals are alternately plaintive and haunted, and the whole thing bears a spooky, shadowy feel, like there just might be some unsavory Wiccan ritual taking place within spitting distance of the recording gear. Ultimately, the sound of Savaging Spires exists in its own eccentric little corner of the universe, somewhere between the neo-psych folk of Animal Collective and its offspring, and the first generation of acid folk weirdos who forsook the coffeehouses for the cosmos back in the hippie era. ~ J. Allen, Rovi
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