On Vetiver’s first two albums he conjured up something akin to the output of his sometime sidekick Devendra Banhart: a patchouli-scented Americana full of chiming acoustic guitars, fiddle, banjo and the clink of finger cymbals. A third album of cover versions was a holding operation – but holding only for this pedestrian lo-fi set. There are echoes of the old magic – “Down From Above” has cascades of spangling acoustics and a dreamy, socially sculpted atmosphere it shares with “At Forest Edge”. Otherwise it’s a trudge from one ordinary rock to the next – “Lying next to me/How happy we would be” (‘Everyday’) is a mundanity one would not expect. Cabic’s limited vocal powers are part of the problem. His dusty delivery is allusive when wrapped in instrumental swirls – asked to front up a song, it sounds merely flat. NEIL SPENCER For more album reviews, click here for the UNCUT music archive
On Vetiver’s first two albums he conjured up something akin to the output of his sometime sidekick Devendra Banhart: a patchouli-scented Americana full of chiming acoustic guitars, fiddle, banjo and the clink of finger cymbals. A third album of cover versions was a holding operation – but holding only for this pedestrian lo-fi set.
There are echoes of the old magic – “Down From Above” has cascades of spangling acoustics and a dreamy, socially sculpted atmosphere it shares with “At Forest Edge”. Otherwise it’s a trudge from one ordinary rock to the next – “Lying next to me/How happy we would be” (‘Everyday’) is a mundanity one would not expect. Cabic’s limited vocal powers are part of the problem. His dusty delivery is allusive when wrapped in instrumental swirls – asked to front up a song, it sounds merely flat.
NEIL SPENCER
For more album reviews, click here for the UNCUT music archive
