Chris DeLine

When comparing Mew to its contemporaries, the Danish quartet findx little similarity within the given realm of modern rock music. Mew And the Glass Handed Kites serves as somewhat of a rock opera in which its characters appear then vanish quickly, only to reappear in its later stages in an entirely different form. It’s main roles played by Jonas Bjerre, Bo Madsen, Johan Wohlert and Silas Utke Graae Jorgensen formulate a set of strange electronic ballads that morph into high intensity, guitar-fluttering masterpieces. The striking point that sticks out when analyzing this tale is its lyrics; which, while maintaining a slight semblance of individual structure, prove harmful when evaluating the entire album as a whole, completely crushes any running theme that could suit for the rock opera basis. Nonetheless, the album is structured so amazingly beautifully with each song effortlessly phases into the next. No rock opera, but the show must go on.

In terms of modern prog rock, the album goes past anything that has really found mainstream acceptance in recent years. Somewhere along the way The Mars Volta lost relevance and Dream Theater fell far too deep into a loop of repetitiveness, releasing material for a die-hard fan base that alienated any new listeners. Somehow, Mew seem to avoid any similarity to prog while fitting in perfectly, proving that an album can be released without falling into a repetitive groove during production.

Gracefully including synth in just about every song fully syncs with the Bjerre’s effervescent vocals, Mew And The Glass Handed Kites finds a high point, which is briefly revisited in “An Envoy To The Open Fields,” during “Why Are You Looking Grave?” Revisiting your musical idols is something that can be tricky. How does one imitate, while maintaining a flattering profile and remaining individualistic? Why, you request that your idol join you in the recording process, of course. As the band was changing from little Mews to the Mew of today, My Bloody Valentine and Dinosaur Jr. played key roles in defining the sound that the band currently identifies itself with.

Then it should be no surprise that J. Mascis appears on two tracks within the album, offering his voice as an disconnected counterpart to Bjerre’s. The band must have told Mascis to go out back and swallow a handful of gravel before recording as he sounds in his prime on this album, which raises questions as to what was possibly missing from his latest solo material. Inevitably Mew And The Glass Handed Kites harkens back to the rock opera comparison in its later stages as its ambient overwhelms and rock harvests a bountiful crop of reverb. And it does so as any good prog album should, proving itself as a point of envy and desire for all those Dream Theater fans who have over the years grown tired of having to listen to album after album that tries to sound like A Change of Seasons.

[This post was first published by Culture Bully.]