by Will Henriksen (@will___h___)
The Green Child began as a long-distance collaboration between band members Raven Mahon (ex-Grass Widow) and Mikey Young (Total Control, Eddy Current Suppression Ring). 2020’s Shimmering Basset, released in October of a year largely defined by physical distance, finds the duo now united in Rye, Australia. The results of their newfound proximity are some of their strongest and most distinctive work yet.
Opener “Fashion Light” establishes the palette: a bed of synthesizers, drums (both live and electronic), occasional stabs of guitar, and Mahon’s warm, confident vocals. Each sound is carefully defined and given its own space. While it might be easy to imagine this music swimming in a sea of reverb, the group’s restraint provides a thrilling clarity as musical layers appear and recede.
The gradual introduction of instrumental elements is monumental on “Health Farm.” Mid-song, a playful but minimal synth solo gradually gains the backing of pseudo-strings, building until it is replaced by sliding chords that sound not quite like a guitar or a keyboard. Calm, direct vocals appear and disappear, delivering impressionistic lyrics that always seem to point in a direction while avoiding explicit guidance. On “Low Desk: High Shelf,” in a typical but thought-provoking example, Mahon sings “Secret stare along a winding line / evidence of an enticing bloom / steal the frame, another piece of mind / edging forward, somebody's ending time.” This is the case with most vocals on the album: hard-to-grasp lyrics, not buried but barely positioned above the rest of the music.
“Dreamcom” suggests a bossa nova style, juxtaposing serene vocals against thick, searching instrumental harmonies. There’s some absolutely beautiful interplay and coordination going on between drum machine, bassline, and keyboard blips. “Smart Clothes,” meanwhile, brings to mind mid-to-late 90s Stereolab, who too played with bossa nova and rock conventions and took a hard turn toward crystal-clear production on albums like Emperor Tomato Ketchup and Dots and Loops. Only on the final two songs of the album do they get around to blurring things a bit, with huge, hazy synth textures. It’s a fitting conclusion for a band that keeps moving forward, never finishing where it started.