REVIEW: Hands Like Houses – Ground Dweller

Artist: Hands Like Houses
Album: Ground Dweller
Genre: Rock/experimental
Label: Rise Records

Towards the end of this album, I remembered a quote I had seen online and realized that it perfectly summed up everything I’d been trying to write. “I’m busy making something simple complicated and congratulating myself for being clever.” That truly is the best summation of Ground Dweller. A decently thought-out but horribly executed idea, it’s a mishmash of promising moments shrouded in cacophonous mayhem and never really finds its feet. I recognize the general enthusiasm there seems to be for adding synth effects to things these days, but when you also throw in unravelled vocals, over-excitable drums, hormonal guitars, and absolutely no decorum, everything gets very out of hand very fast.

The band has certainly approached this from a serious place, if their lofty track titles are anything to go by. It’s just a pity that any solemn intent they had has gotten completely lost in their lack of subtlety. There’s so much going on at any one time that I don’t know what I’m supposed to pay most attention to. None of it converges well, so you can’t really do much with the whole either. If the vocals had a touch more gravitas the varying musical elements might have something to glue them as one, but they’re too insubstantial to have any solidifying impact. The effect, as can be immediately discerned in opening track “Antarctica,” is of something so eager to impress it forgot what it wanted to say in the first place. There are synths, crashing guitars, pounding drums, wayward vocal lines, a brief come-down for more kaleidoscopic effects, then a huge thrusting ending that clatters them all together as one. It’s certainly climactic, though perhaps not in the way the band intended. The persistent guitar harmonies are at fault in “Don’t Look Now, I’m Being Followed, Act Normal” also. Had they a clearer train of thought, they could have given the track – and album – a much-needed sense of direction.

Further along, “A Clown and His Pipe” cranks things up to 15, even at this level. To say it opens fervently would be an understatement, for it aims to be even heavier than the other tracks have been. It’s big and brash and has an almost primeval wildness as it crusades nonchalantly through verse after verse of momentous riffs. People forget that when you’re at cruise control, you still have to steer. “Lion Skin” is equally deranged. The chorus practically lifts off. Everything is approached with such screaming vehemence that you almost fall madly in love with how mental it is. Between the crazed vocals, infallible guitar, and relentless drums, it’s just a melting pot of aggressive ambition. This could all be converted into something brilliant in the future, mind, if they find a producer handy with a tranquilising gun. I do commend their expansive vision. Their reliance on backing effects and favour for soft group vocals is a promising sign; they just need to learn how to harness it accordingly. Throwing the aural equivalent of a flash bomb in everyone’s face is not the way to do it.

All my miserly musings above aside; there are plenty of nice moments on this album. Unsurprisingly, these occur during songs for which the band saw fit to take a chill pill or five. “This Ain’t No Place For Animals” has a lovely, haunted vibe and uses turgid drumming to evoke the despairing tone of the lyrics. “Spineless Crow” has gorgeous opening instrumentation that, despite its being mangled by the swift introduction of the guitars, infuses the song with an understated charm throughout. “The Definition of Not-Leaving” does shrill and serene equally as well, and the final two tracks are also quite likeable. Well, it’s either that or the listener builds up a resistance to their excesses by the time they roll around. “Watchmaker” is ominous and grating and feels infinitely more together than the other tracks. It seems to have made shrewder use of its instruments and is rewarded with a clearer sound. “The Sower” is overbearing and exhausting, but somehow amiable at the same time.

So, basically, Ground Dweller and I don’t speak the same language. A few listens later, I’m entirely exhausted. I’m sure many will adore its uncontrolled chaos, and to those listeners I bid a world of fun at the live shows. However, I like too many other bands that can skilfully do sprawling ambition for me to find this anything other than amateurish. I’ll have more time to hear what Hands Like Houses have to say when they figure out how to say it.

SCORE: 6/10
Review written by Grace Duffy

James Shotwell
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