Mordecai - Seeds Furthest From The Vine LP

The newest Mordecai album is my favorite release they have put out so far. And thank goodness it's on par with their previous releases rather than "we decided to book a 32 track studio".
, at the same time, they could get
away with all the bells and whistles from a multi-trillion dollar studio recording and STILL sound like Mordecai, that's their mystique. And their mystique is so rooted in Butte, even though they haven't inhabited that city in some years, they carry that copper essence, the permeation of the Berkley Pit (possibly the largest super fund site) that may seep into the pores, atoms, esthetic, livelihood. Don't forget the ghosts of Butte, the miners that have perished, the union organizers lynched, the unfortunate drunk lost from misadventure. They all lurk the nearly abandoned city on the hill and it's easy to mistake them for the living. And it's easy for a Saturday. night to be desolate, cupping your hands on a dirty window to actually find that the place of business is actually open. Take that Butte essence and let it erode from the richest hill and into the cords, cables, guitars, the crackling and hiss of sound, captured on a dusty 4 track. Songs that you would swear that were from Columbus OH via Mike Rep/Jim Shepard, songs that should've been part of the Ego Summit, and honestly songs that stand alone because not many take risks like this. The guitars and bass always seem to lurk from around a corner, vocals blurt from some busted phone receiver, the drums anchor it all and is game for whatever is comes their way, doesn't matter just roll with it, man. Seeds From The Furthest Vine is enshrouded in the said murky Butte mystique, Lou Reed would totally get it, the writers that would hang out at the Montana watering holes the Dixon Bar or Charlie B's (especially Richard Hugo and Richard Brautigan). The new Mordecai joint is all on par lo-fi, rustic corroded lurching beauty.

-Bryan Ramirez


Seeds from the Furthest Vine is the 6th(!!!!) proper lp from our gang. taking their glorious din into new territories of clattering freedom. Organ and flute appear sporadically to offer new textures and it only gets wilder the further into the record you get, from a song that sounds like the gnarliest Messthetics-era troglodyte throb to long form clanging noisy storytelling "down in the alley". And like the previous five albums, the staunchly DIY post-Lou midwestern rock of Mike Rep and Jim Shepard permeates throughout this new one in all its casual glory.

Containing two brothers and a friend, Mordecai formed in the big sky land of Montana a number of years ago. These days however they're a more jet setting proposition, with members spread between Oregon, Massachusetts, and Taiwan. Their music contains languid vocals, guitars that alternate lazy strumming and berserker scrabblings, a constantly sturdy bass keeping things in check, and percussion that eschews loud bashing for an assortment of minimal thwackings and shakings. Their songs sometimes end abruptly and rarely have clear choruses or more than one part yet seem complete in their self-sufficiency.

If Mordecai: The Rock Band was a recipe for Mordecai: The Pie the shopping list would seem fairly regular. Vocals, guitar, bass, drums, all easily obtainable and non-threatening to use. They play discernable rock songs so no unfamiliar techniques to master. No matter the precise filling you've eaten some variation many, many times, possibly even given a shot to making your own to adequate effect. So this should be simple enough. But something's gone askew and the perfectly constructed crust enrobing the delectable innards has resulted in a confusing mass of misshapen glop. Still tastes good though. Nay, tastes great to those who chew the pan when the pie is gone.

-Max Milgram