Orcas' pedigree was already impressive when the band consisted of
the Sight Below's
Rafael Anton Irisarri and
Benoît Pioulard's Thomas Meluch, but with the addition of
Efterklang's
Martyn Heyne and
Telekinesis'
Michael Lerner, they've become something of a supergroup. All of these artists know how to flirt with the beautifully blurry area between ambient electronica's abstraction and pop's more concrete melodies and hooks, and on
Yearling, they make the most of the tension between those approaches.
Orcas' self-titled debut seemed to be fashioned out of dust and sunbeams and offered some of the coziest-sounding ambient music in recent memory. While the inviting calm of
Yearling's bookends "Petrichor" and "Tell" nod to those roots, most of the album brings more structure to their music. Many of these songs began as pieces Meluch wrote beforehand, as opposed to the improvisations that dominated
Orcas. Somewhat paradoxically, this premeditation allows them more range. The lovely "Selah" showcases how much
Orcas' finesse with ethereal soundscapes and songwriting has grown since their debut; the low-key bliss of "Infinite Stillness," with its strings and swaths of airy distortion, recalls Meluch's work as
Pioulard, and the late-night ballad "An Absolute" recalls
Air's Virgin Suicides soundtrack. Shorter songs like these add color and contrast to the epics that make up almost half of
Yearling's length. "Half Light"'s aquatic keyboards and stately bassline borrow some of the grandeur and poignancy of
Talk Talk at their finest, and this majestic feel extends to songs as different as the serene "Capillaries" and the somber, relentless "Filament," which is emotionally worlds away from the group's earlier work. However, like
Orcas,
Yearling is a subtle album, and perhaps even more of a grower than the music from any of the bandmembers' other projects. Much of its beauty is apparent immediately, but its depth takes time to unfold. ~ Heather Phares