"...and I can hear but I can't quite follow"
Through the glorious Steven Wilson, I found out about this project. They are frequently in his playlist and always in his top 10 lists. I thought if this genius of a musician listens to them, then I must try what he is listening to! And in this case he was oh so right. So thank you to Mr. Wilson (who will never read this) for doing the leg work here to introduce me to a band I had never heard of and may never have heard otherwise.
Fovea Hex: fovea - Latin, meaning pit or pitfall, hex - a magical spell, usually a curse, from the German word for witch 'Hexe'. Perhaps you conjure a certain image or feeling when you initially hear those words strung together. For me, like most initial impressions through band names alone, I was not even remotely close to what I heard. What I heard was beautiful, melancholic, and understated. You will hopefully see what I mean by these three descriptors as the review continues.
Fovea Hex is Clodagh Simonds, leader of the group, though as the website states, whether Fovea Hex is indeed a group and she indeed a leader, is up for debate. The 'group' includes some usual suspects, some bigger names like Brian Eno, as well as some individuals who "prefer to remain nameless". However the project is driven by Simonds as she covers vocals and a variety of instruments, as well as being listed as writer for every track. This is actually also the group's first full length album, with the previous major release being a string of 3 EPs.
The focus of this album is often on Simonds' entrancing voice, usually accompanied by simple instrumentation that compliments her voice. Though rather than describing this as singer/songwriter I would compare it more to ambient with vocals. The vocals for me are truly profound. Sometimes with a feeling of vulnerability and other times it is as if she is telling a story. In addition to the vocal tracks, there are a few shorter (approximately 2 minutes) instrumentals to fill in the album. I wouldn't necessarily say they are fillers however, more like pleasant segues that seem to string the tracks together more cohesively. For the vocal tracks, it is both comforting and satisfying to listen to the music rise and fall with her voice, well put together by the musicians involved. This, however, does not mean this is a boring album, with the listener able to anticipate where the song will go next. It is the opposite in fact. While the combination may sound simple, that is hardly the case. In its understated way, it will still take you off guard. The album can best be summed up as beautifully melancholic. It doesn't make you depressed, and in fact there is often solidarity and hopefulness in the lyrics, but it does bring your emotions to a feeling of muted calmness. You want to sit and listen, reflect, take it all in.
Here Is Where We Used To Sing is one of those rare albums that, to me, is exactly what you want in an album. It never drags on and in fact, always leaves you wanting more. Like that perfect wine or beer: you can taste it, let it linger in your mouth, and truly enjoy it. When you've finished the bottle, you are satisfied with the experience, but you have every intention of having another at a date in the future. You are pleased that your palate is quenched, but the craving will never truly leave you. It's near perfection.
Fovea Hex: fovea - Latin, meaning pit or pitfall, hex - a magical spell, usually a curse, from the German word for witch 'Hexe'. Perhaps you conjure a certain image or feeling when you initially hear those words strung together. For me, like most initial impressions through band names alone, I was not even remotely close to what I heard. What I heard was beautiful, melancholic, and understated. You will hopefully see what I mean by these three descriptors as the review continues.
Fovea Hex is Clodagh Simonds, leader of the group, though as the website states, whether Fovea Hex is indeed a group and she indeed a leader, is up for debate. The 'group' includes some usual suspects, some bigger names like Brian Eno, as well as some individuals who "prefer to remain nameless". However the project is driven by Simonds as she covers vocals and a variety of instruments, as well as being listed as writer for every track. This is actually also the group's first full length album, with the previous major release being a string of 3 EPs.
The focus of this album is often on Simonds' entrancing voice, usually accompanied by simple instrumentation that compliments her voice. Though rather than describing this as singer/songwriter I would compare it more to ambient with vocals. The vocals for me are truly profound. Sometimes with a feeling of vulnerability and other times it is as if she is telling a story. In addition to the vocal tracks, there are a few shorter (approximately 2 minutes) instrumentals to fill in the album. I wouldn't necessarily say they are fillers however, more like pleasant segues that seem to string the tracks together more cohesively. For the vocal tracks, it is both comforting and satisfying to listen to the music rise and fall with her voice, well put together by the musicians involved. This, however, does not mean this is a boring album, with the listener able to anticipate where the song will go next. It is the opposite in fact. While the combination may sound simple, that is hardly the case. In its understated way, it will still take you off guard. The album can best be summed up as beautifully melancholic. It doesn't make you depressed, and in fact there is often solidarity and hopefulness in the lyrics, but it does bring your emotions to a feeling of muted calmness. You want to sit and listen, reflect, take it all in.
Here Is Where We Used To Sing is one of those rare albums that, to me, is exactly what you want in an album. It never drags on and in fact, always leaves you wanting more. Like that perfect wine or beer: you can taste it, let it linger in your mouth, and truly enjoy it. When you've finished the bottle, you are satisfied with the experience, but you have every intention of having another at a date in the future. You are pleased that your palate is quenched, but the craving will never truly leave you. It's near perfection.
