Instrumentalists, beware: the art may make the mood, but in no way does the mood make the art. You can talk about 'tone' and 'openness' and use verbs as adjectives and vice versa, but if you can't take an abstraction and inject some life into it, the sonic result isn't going to make for replay value. Take Human Bell's self-titled debut, for example. Comprised of former Lungfish bassist Nathan Bell and Arboretum leader Dave Heumann (Heumann + Bell = Human Bell – get it?), Human Bell is, at its occasional best, as engaging as it is rapturous; at it’s worst, it’s just really fucking dull.
The amount of tedium that clutters Human Bell isn’t for lack of trying; the record’s duds usually start off excellently before descending into mediocrity. Opener "A Change In Fortunes" starts off like clockwork, with Heumann and Bell's twin-guitar assault chiming in with perfect synchronicity; Ryan Rapsis' slow, dread-drenched drum fills add a stark tone to the tune, which conveys the mood of Warren Ellis' soundtrack work. Unfortunately, what starts off like clockwork ends up as predictable as the inevitable passage of time. The melodic progressions are too minor and insignificant to justify the six-and-a-half-minute running time -- the melody itself isn't even compelling enough to warrant one's attention. "Hymn Amerika" suffers a similar fate, locking itself into a downcast groove that is as repetitive as it is occasionally ingratiating.
Granted, there are times when the duo breaks free of the clogging tedium. The title of "Splendor and Concealment" evokes the structure of the piece, which begins with shadowy figures before breaking into dual Fahey-esque walking lines that give the track the open and expressive nature the duo are setting out to produce. Same goes for “Ephaphatha (Be Opened),” which evokes post-apocalyptic images only strengthened by the haunting saxophone glare in the sonic landscape. Perhaps tellingly, these are the only two tracks on Human Bell that keep themselves under the five-minute mark.
The duo save their most raucous soundscape, “The Singing Trees” for last, but the only interesting part of it is the track’s flaking static dissolution. Then, after a period of silence that seems to signal the record’s end, the listener is treated to…the same groove in the previous song. How ironic that the gems in Human Bell are buried in the record, while the ‘bonus’ track is merely the same old shit.
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