Last year saw Johnathan Miller’s self-proclaimed “ramshackle psych” project Hand Sand Hands release debut album ‘Lord Of Talk’, a record that may have in all likelihood slipped under most radars. You’d be forgiven if it did; any emerging act to release their first full-length foray into the music world in the same month as Pearl Jam and Miley Cyrus album launches will have to fight for any attention they can get. It didn’t go unnoticed, however, with US label Autumn + Colour snapping the project up and kicking off this month with a re-release of last year’s inaugural effort for any who may have missed it first time around. It’s definitely second time lucky here, and we’re not along amongst a sea of new converts to the glistening, out of this world shoegaze vibes that Hand Sand Hands instills.
A whispered introduction; an almost suspiciously withdrawn start that has you on edge from the word go, expecting an explosion of noise to quickly follow and as the music builds such a crescendo doesn’t seem far off at all. There is no thunder, however – there is only the sun-soaked haze of instrumentals with Miller’s shimmering vocals swimming somewhere amidst synths and distortion. ‘Before Home’ is a swaying, amorphous pace-setter, strapping you in for a ride unlike any other that you will experience this year. Following is ‘The Promise of Sleep’, and Miller’s hypnotic concoction continues to seep in. A pulsing bassline makes itself heard through the hum of effect-laden sound, and as the track warps and grows, each element of Hand Sand Hands rises to the surface and sinks back down; each in replaced by the next in a cyclical ebb and flow. It’s a vibe so easy to lose yourself within that you can listen to the same track twenty times and still be thoroughly mesmerised by each note. Fittingly, it would seem, because twenty plays is the absolute least that ‘June 21st Hymn’ deserves. Miller’s vocals hover above the apparent ocean of synths, multi-tonal and inescapable as the percussion steadily rises. The cymbals and vocal drop out rather suddenly, and the track ends as it began before falling into silence. It’s a brief silence however, quickly filled by ‘Oh Chorus, Split Us’; another otherworldly collision of timbres to prolong the immersive sonic dreamscape that Miller has built through his Hand Sand Hands project.
There is no standout track on ‘Lord Of Talk’, simply because not one track needs to stand out. The record itself stands strong as a consistently powerful plunge into the heart of shoegazing psych, never letting up in what feels like an unassailable cascade of sound. The album’s later stages offer up ’17 Tons’, a drum-centric effort tasked with following the eight-minute epic of ‘As I Said’. One extended interlude later, and penultimate track ‘Water Eyes’ saunters into life. A rhythmic power play as ‘Lord Of Talk’ nears its conclusion is precisely what’s needed to keep momentum going in a track lost to effects as it fades away, leaving only ‘Mark And Martha’ left to close things out. And then you’re back in the room. The near hour-long immersion is complete, and unless you’re so lost to the rhythms that ‘Before Home’ restarts the cycle unnoticed (an incredibly likely possibility), the album’s final quivering note is your cue to return to reality.
What a pleasant reality it is, knowing that musicians like Johnathan Miller occupy it alongside you. 2013’s psychedelic releases were bossed slightly by Flamingods’ ‘Sun’, but this month’s re-release ensures that ‘Lord Of Talk’ does not simply fly past uncredited. Such a fate would be a huge injustice, and luckily it doesn’t seem that Hand Sand Hands will fall victim to it. If ever again you’re met with the feeling that you just need to sink back into yourself – even if just for a single hour – ‘Lord Of Talk’ is the only soundtrack you will require. Listen and be transported, because this is one record that does everything that it sets out to do.
5/5
‘Lord Of Talk’ by Hand Sand Hands is out now via Autumn + Colour.
Hand Sand Hands links: Facebook|Bandcamp|Soundcloud
Words by Antony Lusmore (@Metacosmica)
