by Chris Coplan (@CCoplan)
As a young journalist/critic operating in the 2010s, I warmly recall The Great Wave of Supergroups. It seemed like everybody and their brother were starting bands with their famous cohorts. Some of these acts (like The Dead Weather and Broken Bells) were hugely compelling, and demonstrated the magic that happened when your faves went all Voltron. Others, not so much. (I'm looking at you with stinging disappointment, Monsters of Folk).
While the heyday of that "movement" has long since passed, there's no denying that it's still an appealing prospect. Luckily, we now have Mulva to stoke those same wants/wishes. Comprised of members of Kal Marks, Bethlehem Steel, Baglady, and Ex-Breathers, the Providence quartet is a unique configuration of hard-hitting super-indie rockers. So, does their Seer EP demonstrate such magic as the aforementioned wave itself, or is the supergroup model best left in the 2010s? Sure, it’s the former, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.
Are you looking for more of what made their other bands so great and dynamic? Look elsewhere — Mulva deal in a blend of indie rock that's as ambient and ethereal as it is crunchy and dissonant. (The one comparison I kept coming back to was another supergroup, A Perfect Circle, but perhaps with a stoner metal sheen.) That's a good thing — why start a new group if you don't do something new — but it can also be a downside. There's no compass to follow, or neon sign to drive toward; Mulva is utterly distinct, and some folks might not come along without that larger connective potential. That matters because supergroups are meant to be these multifaceted beasts, and that existence means connecting back to ideas, energies, politics, etc. that create a language or even a bridge between their previous projects and what trails they're blazing now.
Certainly Mulva are very much doing their own thing. However, what that "thing" is often feels rather specific — to the point of feeling pre-formed and pre-arranged upon arrival. There's a profound sense of cohesion and a kind of running, semi-rigid formula between these four tracks (that run about fifteen minutes total). "Heel As a Hammer" emphasizes bits of shoegaze and doom metal for something layered and textured. "Shouldn't Fear the Seer" pulls back on the gloom for something more sensuous and riveting in its trajectory. Meanwhile, "Melpomene (Demo)" brings back the foreboding vibes but it strips away the rock majesty, leaving something that terrifies instead of also tantalizing. "Futuremind" tries to uplift things a bit, and what we ultimately get is more abstract vibes and uncertain emotional swings, and that's it — the EP laid out like the map of some post-rock-ian fantasy realm.
So, then, what's it all mean? Again, the sense of cohesion is huge; it demonstrates clear creative intent around certain sonic ideals and elements, and that's how bands forge a sense of identity. At the same time, though, there's not a whole lot of noticeable variation, or those spots where we see the greater nuances of the band's sound. It's generally really effective stuff, able to generate some profound moods and reactions, but without more aesthetical holes, dips, and valleys, everything feels sort of tethered to a few very specific tent poles. In fact, you can almost plot out those cultural anchor points where the band grounded themselves.
What Mulva have done — expertly split the difference between ambient and sludge diffused through an indie rock filter — is wildly compelling. It does that thing where it forces the listener to cling tight as it unfurls some big ideas. Yet I just can't shake the sense that this EP feels grounded in the same kinds of instrumental flourishes, vocal melodies, general tones, etc. It’s very much This Thing, and there doesn’t seem to be a chance to decipher it based on your own background/influences/etc.; it’s just there (but also still quite good).
So much so, in fact, that I found a workaround for my "complaints" — it’s basically consuming this as one extended piece. In that context, where we do away with normally helpful context/structure, this EP ironically comes alive like it should. It's then that we get some of the nougaty chunks of more varied, detailed sonics that interact and play off each other (like the shifts in emotion and tone from "Shouldn't Fear the Seer" to "Melpomene"). Where we get bashed over the head with that sense of doom that comes to feel not only more textured itself but informed by more robust sentiments and creative ideas/inspirations.
It's a contextual journey that, while still very much focused on some core ideas, feels expansive and alive as it slowly mutates back and forth. It's about taking the full trip alongside the band, and watching it all unfold with as keen an ear as you deem necessary. What it also does, though, is sap some identity and energy from each track, and push the experience toward one specific direction or larger configuration.
Regardless, the end result is pretty much the same: Mulva confront the listener head on with their robust ideas. Again, maybe it takes a little time and effort to see the greater scope of said ideas, but the broader strokes — captivating beauty and aural chaos — will nonetheless dropkick listeners in the chin. As such, Mulva are already a pretty compelling entry in the pantheon of supergroups.
They're big and brash enough to make a lot of noise, and yet still capable of doing something new and novel, especially something that actually rewards an effort to fully dissect the larger process and final product. In that sense, they've clearly demonstrated that there's still heaps of magic to this mighty configuration and their own collective prospects. Let’s just hope that there’s a round two so we see what other tricks remain up their collective sleeves.