Ampday is Kiln's pop experiment, which is hardly the oxymoron it seems -- pocket-size sound sculptures of panoramic depth and kaleidoscopic radiance, the album's 13 tracks channel the far-reaching sonic sprawl of previous outings into a concise yet vividly impressionistic approach somehow both accessible and abstract. It's not so much a pop record per se as it is a meditation on and reinterpretation of the concept; by adopting some basic elements of pop (melody, shape, and brevity among them), Ampday's songs possess an immediacy earlier Kiln records lacked, but in rejecting other elements (most notably vocals and verse-chorus-verse structures), the album refutes pop's inherent reliance on articulating and interpreting feelings and thoughts solely through means of verbal expression, a straitjacket that limits the music's possibilities for both artists and audiences alike. Whereas lyrics force specific ideas and emotions, Ampday allows for much more meaningful interaction, evoking and suggesting instead of provoking and demanding; it's far too direct and present to pass as mere ambient music, yet their common spaciousness and atmospherics make the comparison an apt one, as the record's best moments boast an uncommon mastery of texture and mood. A Technicolor revelation, Ampday expands upon Kiln's beauty in new and unexpected ways -- amplification indeed.
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