Wild Nothing - Gemini

Presenter

Jade Nobbs

Published

Tuesday 22nd June

On the Wild Nothing myspace, under the field entitled “influences,” there is embedded a clip from Michelangelo Antonioni’s 1960s minimalist mod cinema masterpiece, “Blow Up”. Which, after listening to this shimmering gem of an album, I found a bit strange, as there’s not really much in the way of a recognisable 60s or mod influence here at all. It’s much more focused upon revisiting and recombining the touchstones of classic indie rock and pop: post-punk, new wave and shoegaze. However, perhaps the influences proudly modelled on Gemini can—perhaps—be seen as the 80s equivalent of the mod movement: self-consciously preoccupied with form, style and sonic spectacle as the vehicle of their expression, rather than any specific content. Or perhaps this critic is just stretching an angle a tad too far. Maybe Wild Nothing are just being vague and elusive.

Which is fair enough, as the music on this record speaks for itself in terms of its influences, which are lovingly catalogued on the album. It is spacious, beautiful, jangly shoegaze pop that wouldn’t be out of place on many Flying Nun releases of the late 80s or early 90s, but also recalls more recent indie pop and shoegaze revisionists such as the Shins, the Pains of Being Pure At Heart, the Ruby Suns and the Shout Out Louds. It seems that for the contemporary pop sensibility, the self-conscious compiling of influences is a more authentic pose than staking any claim to organic originality. The reasons for this could form the basis for many a Phd thesis, and while we won’t go to those lengths, since we’re here, we may as well do some cataloguing of influences:

Opener “Live In Dreams” is reminiscent of the classic Dunedin sound of the early Flying Nun records: the Clean, the Verlaines, the Chills, etc. It is jangly indie pop heaven, with a bit of a nod to the Shins thrown in for good measure. “Summer Holiday” is highly reminiscent of latter-day nu-gazers the Pains of Being Pure At Heart, but no less enjoyable as a result. In fact, the melodic progression here is perhaps more delightful and surprising than most of the Pains’ moves, which you can often spot coming a mile off. Nevertheless, this is highly nostalgic stuff.

“Drifter” takes a leaf out of the Cocteau Twins’ dream pop songbook, but there’s something about the way the vocals have been processed and the arrangement tweaked that also makes it interesting and unique. “Pessimist” inhabits the realms of a Shinsy, ambient soundscape, but with a touch of the Radiohead blues, which given the title would seem to be highly self-conscious. “Bored Games” traverses Cure-esque areas via the indietronic route of recent bedroom pop practitioners such as the Radio Dept and Casiotone for the Painfully Alone, and “Confirmation” also occupies the synthesiser zone, but is more reminiscent of Australian psych-goths The Church. One can almost hear the delay-drenched riff of “Reptile” in there, but the vocals are pitched well above what one would expect from the permanently nonchalant Steve Kilbey. “My Angel Lonely” can be read as a kind of synthesis of the Jesus and Mary Chain and the Ruby Suns, while “Chinatown” manages to reference both the Cure and soundalikes the Shout Out Louds while transcending both in terms of melodic and rhythmic inventiveness. And that’s saying something.

Anyway, you get the idea. This is recombinatory pop at its most sublime, lovely melancholy jingle-jangle that will appeal strongly to those for whom the very mention of Flying Nun, shoegaze and the classic “Dunedin sound” is a meaningful incitement to lust. It’s the sort of record that will have some tsk-tsk-ing at its sheer derivativeness, and others who will rejoice and carouse for the very same reason. I’ll pitch my tent in the latter camp. And perhaps they just want to encourage people to go rent “Blow Up” on DVD via their myspace. It’s a really good film.