4 jun 2008, 02:34
Frozen Flower Pot is a waking dream in a bright New York flat. Yes, it’s winter and there’s a cat under your bed, its ears are twitchy (so maybe this is the cat’s waking dream – or is it the dream of that dying plant on the windowsill? No, let’s not say dying, but dormant.)
While listening you may think you’re rising out of bed, but you’re not, actually it’s the flat around you that’s coming to life – see the radiator click along the floorboards to the washroom? See the toaster stretch and shudder? This is how I feel while listening to Tidy Kid’s much-too-brief EP Frozen Flower Pot. Four songs comprising a dream that’ll linger, that’ll make you wish you had stayed in bed just a little longer (though while in bed something was telling you get up now, get up now). Yes, the room was bright, and there was a Cheshire Cat grin in your sleeping face, and the sun worked its way across the room.
Flower, Frozen, Smell, Snail, those are the song titles. Their oneiric arsenal consists of soft guitar passages, analogue creaks and electronic crunches, loops of captured noise, and such a voice. Tidy Kid’s falsetto will seep inside you; it’s a voice that lives well beyond being spoken, that drifts through the room well after the singer has left it.
Now I’m not sure what I hear in the opening track, “Flower,” but I know something’s going to happen soon, and I will suffer. I might be hunted, or haunted, but it’s probably neither. All the more disturbing. The song quickly unfolds to life, literally you feel it stretch and awake. There’s something subtly humorous about the play of sounds in this song. The ominous refrain creates a disquieting counterbalance.
Next comes “Frozen,” and the sounds of crunching through snow, that’s what I hear, yes that dream of a midnight walk through the park, who was I heading to see? But wait, the fire alarm goes off. Or did it? No, back to sleep… but wait?
Next comes “Smell,” perhaps the brightest, sunniest of the songs, which is an odd thing to say considering the sorrow in the lyrics, which involve selling your cat, and maybe a phone, and maybe a doll, and most definitely your soul. But the sun rises each day and you move forward, right?
The final track, “Snail,” has less ambition, it merely wants to be. Like a snail it lacks the solid form of the other songs, you expect it to take shape but it remains elusive. The vocals may be at their most haunting here, resigned, though not unhappy. The thing is, there’s uncertainty throughout, everything is just below the surface about to surface but probably not ready to surface. Don’t stir the cat. The man in the bed is asleep. The inanimate wants to take over for a while, so maybe just let it do that. Of course it’s disquieting but rest in bed, for this morning’s waking dream of a frozen flower pot will oversee all.
(Review by Lee Thompson)
The 2nd EP is an online only EP, and can be downloaded, printed and played by visiting the Umor Rex Net Label.