by Conor Lochrie (@conornoconnor)
Wren Kitz’s music is tense with contrasts: with his sweet falsetto, he’s capable of working within traditional folk song structures; as a student and lover of tape and field recordings, he also dissolves himself into eerie and mysterious noise. As such, his new album, Early Worm, is carefully constructed, going from more traditional forms to the hiss of lo-fi feedback immediately afterwards. Working with whatever gear he can find, Kitz undertakes field recordings that provide him with the turbulent soundscapes which he then explores and manipulates on record. Guitars and percussion pass over in fazes, as do his hushed murmurings. He recalls Phil Elverum’s exploratory work under the Microphones name or, more recently, anything that Spencer Radcliffe has done.
The Vermont musician has amplified the textures and increased the loudness from his quietly moving 2017 cassette, Dancing On Soda Lake, going so far as to call this his “rock ‘n roll album”. He may be the lead but the backing of his band - Lauren Costello (cello), Ross Doree (bass), and Rob Voland (drums) embellish and lend weight to the final recording; it’s why the record’s atmospherics are so ghostly and strangely moving.
A day once dawned, and it was beautiful: this is the slumberous sound of the opener ‘Early Worm, Part 1’ (surely a nod to The Microphones). An instrumental track, the percussive pieces rise and fall repeatedly, readying themselves. The first half of the album really showcases the exquisite and careful construction. That first track is followed by ‘Shrouds,’ immediately rousing Kitz from the tentative slumber with purposeful rhythm. The screeching harsh landscape of ‘Sophie’ comes next, a piece of in-your-face dissonance that scratches and fizzes and never levels out. ‘Into the House’ and ‘Sky of Words’ then boast a more straightforward and louder rhythm. He also doesn’t mind doing it within the one song, as on ‘A Flower Needs,’ an intimate indie-folk guitar line being interrupted momentarily in the middle by brash fizzing noise.
The opener’s companion, ‘Early Worm, Part 2,’ begins the second half of the album and it contains similarly moving clouds of ambient shadows, hesitant instruments preparing themselves to go again. ‘Georgie’ is a psychedelic outlier, an ode to the lengthy exploratory visions of Pink Floyd, floating and flowering for over eight minutes. ‘Hexed’ is clearwater country-folk, the most pleasant track with its bright guitars and lilting vocals. ‘The Boot’ is a very brief moment of bubbling percussion that precedes the stuttering and tripping ‘Yum’ and the straight and crisp rock of ‘Same White Wall’.
Kitz is a skilled collagist and a proper musician. Early Worm splutters with the sound of hard work and attention to detail. It may be as close to “rock ‘n roll” as he ever ventures as he belongs conducting mysterious and moving recordings, wading through lo-fi sludge to capture moments of radiance. It’s made possible due to his impressive ability to weave and waft his soft vocals through the smallest of hissing gaps. It renders the lyrics hidden and transient: he hints and prods with his elusive voice, never revealing his secrets, instead revealing in incoherent sweetness. There’s sure to be more hypnotic fuzz and magnetic singing to come from Kitz.