Unearth, the sophomore outing from the Ninja Tune-approved, ambient steampunk-pop duo of Andrew Phillips and Marcus O'Dair, presents itself as a sort of travelogue, with each cut paying tribute to a unique British location. There's even a contest involved, with coded, individual cassettes containing alternate versions of the ten tracks, strewn about the country and yielding various prizes. All promotion aside,
Unearth boasts enough charms on its own, offering up ten enigmatic, audio time capsules that strike a winning, oddball balance between the cool, Krautrock sheen of
Kraftwerk, the naturalistic, glitch-filled hum of
the Books, and the melodious pop stylings of early
Orchestral Maneuvers in the Dark. Cerebral, cinematic, and steeped in the pastoral poetry of Tennyson and Keats, stand-out tracks like "Cut Grass," "Reservoir," and "Stone Lions" offer up layer after layer of atmosphere, yet manage to maintain a sugary pop core, resulting in a sound that, at times, suggests the work of more classically minded electronic artists like
Eluvium and
Max Richter -- Phillips is a noted film and television composer.
Unearth loses some of its luster during its more immediate and percussive later half, trading in its hooks for a more indistinct approach, but the languid and lovely closing piece, "Richardson Road," which features a fine guest appearance from
Robert Wyatt, who supplies the stripped-down ballad with piano, ghostly backing vocals, and some truly lonely cornet, sweeps in like a late summer storm, dutifully redirecting the weary traveler to his/her proper place on the road, and allowing the journey to continue in earnest. ~ James Christopher Monger