Why There Are Mountains

We Say...

Review by Chris Roberts

As a grand opener — and perverse choice for first single — "And The Hazy Sea" is one bold statement of intent. Beginning with falsetto cries straight out of "Monkey Gone To Heaven" then careening into a (slightly) more conventional rhythm, the song grabs the listener by the lapels from the get-go. It's a rollercoaster from there on out, the track veering and lilting from arch art-rock to drunken wig-out, briefly visiting most points between. As if to confirm its claim to be a kind of alternative, adrenalized, college-going "Bohemian Rhapsody", its six-minute journey stops halfway through, then starts over again. The message is clear: You will not be bored.

As it turns out, that opening promise holds true: Why There Are Mountains is feverishly peripatetic, racing through shifts in mood and time signatures as if the group is worried the plugs will be pulled before they've demonstrated their chops. The album rarely lets up, sharp savagery and coy sweetness consistently intertwined. At times, the record seems to be the work of three or four bands at once: Vocalist/guitarist Joseph D'Agostino is as cryptic and caustic as Malkmus in his prime, even when, as on "Some Trees," Brian Hamilton's synth ripples lurch into Pink Floyd mannerisms. Only Mercury Rev, in recent years, have maintained this pitch of startled emotion for the duration of an album.

It's a tad draining at times, maybe, and the relatively restrained blues wailing of "Like Blood Does" and "Tunguska" is a blessed relief, but you can only admire their energy and desire. Wilfully complex and euphorically epic, Cymbals Eat Guitars — their name is a Velvet Underground reference — have the wind in their ears and the stars in their sights.