The Sea and Cake

Item: Oui
Author: Earl Campbell

Oui

(2000)

Reviewed by Earl Campbell

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Label Thrill Jockey RecordsBandoppler2000

indie rock jazz rock

It has been three years since The Sea and Cake released and toured The Fawn, their most successful and critically adored album to date, and during hiatus the band has prospered (artistically at least) with their individual projects (musical and visual). It should be no surprise that this time of personal growth on a myriad of creative levels has translated into a new record that is aesthetically whole – a communal work imbued with peculiarities in complete symbiosis. The synthetic elements of past are still here in Oui, but subtlety tempers all the sonic layers so much that it is almost futile (let alone unnecessary and pathetic) to try and distinguish them from the downplayed guitar, subdued drum, and entrancing organ. Sam Prekop's voice joins as easily with the melodies as the mechanical instruments that nudge them, and, while the lyrics are worth paying attention to, words in their common role are irrelevant to these songs. Syllables seem to be the focus, and phonetic sounds are carefully picked and soldered to each note and tempo variance, forming a pure and lush sound experience quite similar to jazz, but without the over-current trappings thereof.

For instance, Prekop's word selection in "Everyday" – "Try me / so tender" – is fused so tightly with the melody that the word "tender" becomes more of an abstract, aural icon than a means of guttural communication: the word being tender, the sonic moment being tender, the visceral response being tender, and the intellectual repose being nullified by a subconscious mist of tenderness that permeates the cells and fills the pores. It is a violent gentleness, a cerebral coup that overpowers as much as it mystifies, but without the awkwardness of a mission statement or liturgy. Each mouth sound tied directly to each string sound, tied directly to each electronic nuance, tied directly to each beat, knotted and melted into a cognizant pop plasma.

Oui doesn't play from your speakers as much as it drifts out slowly like a heavy, laced gas, filling and seducing every space and corner of its container.