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MH-263 Bibio - Vignetting The Compost  Seamlessly amalgamating nature and electronics, Vignetting The Compost, the third full-length release from Bibio, channels instruments and vocals from a bygone era through a futuristic digital portal. History may credit Edison with the phonograph but, in truth, the first such device mysteriously washed up on the shores of England in 1876… playing Bibio. Vignetting The Compost is at once timeless and innovative; 60s-esque folk guitar and mechanic manipulations of sounds whose instruments of origin are less important than the feelings they evoke, layer upon each other with ease and intricacy. Just when you expect to hear Nico’s moan escaping your stereo, Bibio himself comes through with a voice that could have sung next to her on “These Days.” Truly, this is an album for the ages. |
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| Reviews Summary |
| Some of Bibio's most varied and immediate work - All Music Guide / A beautiful, crackling bricolage of vintage sounds - Evil Monito / Bibio’s best record - PopMatters / Quite perfect - Losing Today / Bibio should have no problem calling his greatest - Urb / Beautiful, expressive pools of sound - The Agit Reader |
| This particular release happened to find itself on the player late one night towards the tail end of last week in one of those "We’ll have a sneak peak at this and see if there’s anything interesting enough for considered listening in the morning" moments that many months ago we promised to stop doing for fear of losing sleep staying up until the wee small hours savouring various sounds while copiously scribbling hand written notes which would eventually appear indecipherable in the cold harsh light of day. I think you know what’s coming next. Yep. We got hooked on this. In fact it wasn’t until just before 5 in the morning and three complete plays later that we finally decided to call it a night by which time night had also decided to call it a night and had slumbered off into hiding leaving day break and the dawn chorus to chirpily take its place. Thankfully next day there were no notes to decipher through scrunched up eyes, in fact the album lent itself such that to do anything but recline and let the sounds wash over you would be deemed to a busy and exhaustive folly. Bibio is the alter ego of Midlands based resident Stephen James Wilkinson who we must admit to being a tad ashamed to have never heard of previous to this - we believe - his third full length. As apt a title as we’ve come across since in fact hearing er - A Psychedelic Guide To Monsterism Island just this very morning - but you get my drift (don’t you?). Vignetting the compost is sumptuously threaded by all manner of snoozing gemstones that have been sculptured from yawning electronics and rustic riffs sprinkled by the breezy life affirming glow of nature’s own magical essences, a gorgeously woven tapestry of parched floral recitals dashed with soft psyche overtones and originating as were from an enchanted woodshed. Its utterly disarming and captivating stuff alarmingly seducing and serene and sure to appeal in equal measures to fans of Tunng (as on "Weekend Wildfire" albeit here dimpled by early 70’s flashbacks), the Busy Signals (non more so is this the case than on the village fayre fancy "Odd Paws"), Oddfellows Casino (especially on "Great Are The Piths") and Vernon Elliot. Sixteen tracks feature within, part sepia glazed dream like corteges part wonky and inebriated clock working rustics that sometimes sound like they’re a little worse for wear for sitting in sun, these mellowing slices of fanciful melodic foliage are delicately awash with flotillas of dissipating fuzzy felt mirages and softly tipped lysergic myriads. Within prepare to be charmed by sea faring treats such as dream weaving "Top Soil" with its melting interloping riff work - much recalling it has to be said Toshack Highway’s self titled debut full length. Then there’s the lolloping banjo graced "Thatched" - a dizzy and dusty porch lit treat while in sharp contemplative contrast the divine and demurring sepia tweaked snow globed effect lullaby tracing that attaches to the simply adoring and bitter sweetly shy eyed ‘Torn under the window light’ is simply the stuff of jaw dropped numbed awe. Rummage a bit under the floral undergrowth for the idyllic and woozy Oliver Postgate like charmed landscapes of "Dopplerton" or the lulling albeit slightly seasick see sawing minimalism of the gramophone loft find that is "Under The Pier" and lest we omit to mention the parting 15 minute orbiting odyssey "The Garden Shelter" - droning cascades that to these ears sound like bagpipes, shimmering keys, music box montages and then silence for 5 and a half minutes the return being a rather nifty slice of delta folk rustics by way of mystical astral trip to Tibet. Quite perfect if you ask me. - Losing Today |
