If you’ve been gagging for a new release from Massive Attack or Portishead, you need to get yourself The Verse of You and I, The Wednesday Experiment’s debut album, as a matter of urgency. This is a talented Melbourne-based outfit, featuring the perfect coupling of Peter O’Leary’s beats and Emily Juniper’s celestial vocals, backed by a host a host of clever collaborators. These guys don’t want to be hemmed in by a genre (the band’s credo even says so), but the conclusion that they fit squarely within the trip hop box is unavoidable, at least for the purposes of this album.
While they might be first-timers album-wise, they clearly know what they’re doing. This is a great listen from start to finish, although some tracks are more accessible than others. Interestingly, the more challenging tracks like Vexed and Play With Something all feature Baptiste Polyglock – the crazy French dude who was responsible for Juniper’s magical discovery in the first place – he happened upon her by chance when wandering by a Brunswick warehouse and overheard her singing. That’s not a criticism though – it’s not a bad thing to throw the listener a challenge because it sometimes makes the effort all the more rewarding. The first track Slithering Beast is a sexy, swirling, menacing growl. It’s also a perfect showcase for Juniper’s voice. Juniper sounds uncannily like Björk and the comparison’s intended as high praise, which makes it all the more difficult to believe that she hadn’t sung before a mic before teaming up with O’Leary.
The album’s full of stand-out tracks. Take Silvery Tongue, a funky, jaunty little outing, replete with some dude whistling – it’s one of those infectious tunes bound to get stuck in the brain-box. Cigar Bar’s a good one because it demonstrates the band’s versatility: it starts out with a little bit of Latin-jazz, sounding reminiscent of St. Germain, but morphs into an entirely different beast – a sexy, heavy and throbbing number. It’s also a long track, coming in at 8.47 minutes, which reflects the band’s “couldn’t-give-a-fuck-about-making-3-minute-built-for-radio-disposable-pop-tracks” attitude. Wandering Soul’s another highlight – it’s a perfect shake-it-about fusion of funk and rap.
To be perfectly honest, the album’s probably going to be met by a bit of criticism along the lines that it’s derivative of the stellar ’90s trip hop bands, like Massive Attack, but really, who gives a fuck? These guys do it too well to care.
BY MEG CRAWFORD
Best Track: Slithering Beast
If You Like These, You’ll Like This: Unfinished Sympathy MASSIVE ATTACK, Birthday THE SUGAR CUBES
IN A WORD: Sexy
