March 6, 2016

It takes a steely heart to not be touched by one particular part of Clay Rendering‘s genesis story: while recovering from carpal tunnel surgery which immobilised her right hand, Tara Connelly had to rely on husband (and former Wolf Eyes member) Mike Connelly in new and intimate ways that forced her to accept a previously uncomfortable level of vulnerability. This dependency—everything from applying eyeliner to buttoning up clothes—included music when Tara’s left-handed piano sketches were necessarily complemented by Mike. As the couple drew closer together from this newfound collaborative intimacy, Clay Rendering was formed.

Clay Rendering has existed for around three years now, producing two excellent, diverse EPs prior to this album and supplanting Tara and Mike’s other project, the Haunting, as their primary artistic vehicle (especially after Mike’s departure from Wolf Eyes). Sumptuously produced by Prurient/Vatican Shadow‘s Dominick Fernow, Snowthorn finds both artists inverting the rough-hewn basement noise of their reputations and exploring new, richer territory. This is best represented by the Connellys’ sonic palette: guitar, accordion, piano, and drum machine. While noise does make its way onto some tracks, it’s in the form of scarce wisps and puffs rather than the squalling feedback waves of old.

A far cry, then—sonically at least—from Mike’s best-known project, Snowthorn sees the creative culmination of the last couple of years’ EPs and live performances into an exciting new shape. The initial impression is that this is atmospheric drone-based, even ethereal music as most tracks are either swathed in mist-like reverb or focus on the delicate space between sounds, meaning there’s room for darkwave, gothic stompers, watery midnight piano, and whispered layers of noise amongst the more robust post-punk jamming.

And jams they are; the duo have spoken of their intuitive and playful creative process in interviews with The Quietus and FACT Magazine, and rather than coming off as freewheeling or thrillingly exploratory, these ‘jams’ unfold tenderly, as if making sure to keep step with each other. Parts pace side-by-side, considerate and aware of each other’s subtleties but always distinct. This intimacy is probably best symbolised on the title track’s chiming, gentle piano-and-breath interplay where you can feel that quiet, private intensity in a way that’s almost uncomfortable, as if you were trespassing on some musically sensual moment. Elsewhere, this symbiotic process takes the form of sedately repetitive phrases where the guitars (Mike) and keys (Tara) meander hand-in-hand but as clearly separate entities, coming to together to harmonise frequently and touchingly at key points. These moments of unity, a key change for instance, are a real feature of each song and if they briefly evoke that syncronised satisfaction of the jam band, Clay Rendering pare it down to such an absolute simplicity of form as to avoid any smug virtuosity whatsoever. It may be some of the most romantic material ever released on Hospital Productions.

In amongst these smoldering efforts are some fine pop tunes, albeit of the funereal variety. ‘Fall Off the Bed’ stands out as the most attention-grabbing, driven by hissing drum-machine redolent of too-cool-for-eye-contact British duo The Kills‘ early material and featuring Mike’s most pleasing vocal performance. Whereas the first-half of Snowthorn is characterised by the stately and sparse jams, the second is dominated by these catchy and fully fledged songs, with ‘Patient Days’ and ‘Memory Loses Momentum’ delivering some of the album’s more instantaneous thrills.

A stunning collection of passionate, slow-burning drone-pop masterpieces, Snowthorn is well worth your time and is an exciting debut full-length from this duo.

Rating: 9/10
Written by: Simon Gould
https://heathenharvest.org/2016/03/06/clay-rendering-snowthorn/

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