Through the Panama

We Say...

Review by Alan Licht

After several shady, blurry albums of fractured noise rock, New York’s Sightings brought Andrew W.K. on board as a producer. The result is a sharp-focus document of the group's ferocious music. Mark Morgan’s guitar sounds like shattered glass, and W.K. pushes his talking blues-style spoken/sung vocals further up in the mix than ever before. The rhythm section churns out clattering loops that resemble everything from typewriters to jackhammers. It’s often hard to tell who’s doing what; this is a power trio in the truest sense of the word.

Tracks like “A Rest,” “Debt Depths” and “Certificate of No Effect” will sound familiar to the band’s fans, full of tribal rhythms and crumbling noises. More notable is “Degraded Hours,” where Morgan’s whispery vocals and faint piano recall the lost-in- space vibe of Skip Spence or early Royal Trux. The title track's Beefheartian cross-rhythms and spoken vocals align Sightings with both U.S. Maple and Genesis P-Orridge in a way that never seemed evident before. Another rarity for Sightings is a cover version — Scott Walker’s heavily orchestrated 1978 “The Electrician” is re-envisioned as a scorched electro track. It’s well-chosen for its dark ambience (the lyrics concern torture of political prisoners in Chile), and while Morgan can’t match Walker’s sinister, bottom-of-the-well vocal on the original, it’s safe to say no one could.

While Sightings' 2007 album got a fair amount of attention due to its producer -- longtime Load Records freak/ally Andrew W.K. -- Through the Panama is hardly I Get Wet, which doubtless pleases all parties involved. From the start, with "A Rest"'s aggressive throb of screeching, stuttering feedback rising and falling like a queasy loop from a My Bloody Valentine show in hell while singer Mark Morgan delivers the lyrics in a calm, singsong style that cuts clearly through the chaos, Through the Panama makes a hell of a mark. It's Sightings' best release for Load yet, absolutely snarling as much as instantly catchy, and as such fits in with such other releases on the label (like recent White Mice) rather than somehow sticking out. Some songs, like "Cloven Hoof," sit fully in the still-whatever-you-want-it-to-be noise genre -- roiling bass growls, dank guitar stabs, percussion loops and clicks, an embrace of compelling atmosphere without needing a hummable melody to be memorable. Morgan's speak-singing adds the hook more often than not, but even then is not out to make it easy, his muffled yelps on "Certificate of No Effect" and drawn-out slurred sighs on "Degraded Hours" hardly being easy listening. Yet perhaps the most inspired moment lies in both the choice and method of performing the one cover version on the disc -- "The Electrician," Scott Walker's majestic, terrifying portrayal of fascist torturers in Chile, which first surfaced during the Walker Brothers reunion era. Adapting the unnerving electronic/rock/orchestral arrangement with ease -- the way the guitar and bass almost seem to hover in the air at the start catches the breath, while the stuttering breakdown toward the end sounds like a dying machine, or worse -- the band's only slight misstep is that Morgan's voice can't quite capture Walker's admittedly nearly unique power and grace. It's a small complaint, though, about such an inspired attempt.