At first I was intrigued by the title, Blood Vessels & Marshmallows. I mean, everyone needs at least one of those things to live, right? Beyond that, I didn’t have much more to go on. You never know what to expect with a two-piece, but I’ve had good luck in the past. Out of Vienna, Virgina, US, Red Orchid (Tom Dupree – Drums/Sanmeet Sidhu – Not Drums) would most readily draw comparisons to El Ten Eleven, another loopy, spacey, post-rock duo from the opposite coast (LA). If that’s your bag (as it is mine) then you should waste no further time in getting your hands on a copy. If you’re new to the scene or just not sure, read on:BV&M leads with its title track which starts off sounding alternately like a beating heart and a ticking clock; a real slow, heady intro. And it isn’t disappointing, falling somewhere between Prog- and Post-on the Rock Spectrum. Once this album gets off the ground, it doesn’t touch down again. Not even when it ends. Instead, it just drifts off into the stratosphere.
At first, Red Orchid use guitars like some bands use keyboards: more for texture than for melody. On the B-side of the album they (the guitars) resume their traditional function as piano and synthesizers make their presence heard. Taking the vocals out of the equation, the music is somewhere on the order of a mid-set Mogwai or Arab Strap: reassuringly repetitive riffs, clean arpeggios over distorted progressions, nothing fancy from the drums. Just enough rhythm to remind you they’re there. The vocals, when present, are minimal and understated, which is a plus. Music like this is largely about the monotony of the riffs, the droning, repetitive, &c. Vocals only serve to break up the monotony, thereby dampening the intended effect. Not to overstate the obvious but when it comes to minimalism, less is more.
“Silent Train” is one of the album’s highlights, incorporating elements of the psychedelic sound as well as Middle Eastern themes. I hate to compare anything to Pink Floyd, because it creates unreasonable expectations and it’s inherently unfair (and I mean, who hasn’t been influenced in some way by Pink Floyd? They’re one of those seminal bands to which comparison is essentially meaningless.), but by the end of “Silent Train” Floyd is invariably who I am reminded of. “Bitter Hands” seems out of place on the album. It’s an acoustic ballad that’s almost entirely incongruous with the rest of Blood Vessels & Marshmallows. On it we are treated to the more melodic side of Sanmeet Sidhu’s vocals. It’s not a bad tune, but it’s certainly a departure, and by the end you are left wondering if the duo just decided midway through production to become a completely different band. And then so swiftly you’d think the track had changed, it returns to the sound they spent the last thirty minutes establishing. If there’s a track to skip, it’s “Bitter Hands.”
The most interesting percussion on BV&M can be found buried among the layers of space junk which comprise “Flabbergast Butterfly,” the albums ten-minutes-plus Überjam. If you started from the beginning, and you’re still listening by the time you get to it, there’s no reason you won’t like it (unless of course you’ve hated the whole thing and you’re still listening just to punish yourself).
This is not the album for listeners craving hooks. You can’t dance to it, and it might make you a bit dizzy. It has depth but not breadth, heart but not soul, and form but not function. It’s smart, but not genius. You’ll either like it immediately or know halfway through any track you choose that it’s not for you. (Or maybe you’ll warm up to it slowly, liking it gradually more over time. Who knows?) I would recommend this album more than most.
