Steve Kilbey's Earthed

Despite their complete absence from mainstream culture, there’s nothing inherently wrong with "rock" instrumentals. You can do a lot with them – the two instrumentals in Quadrophenia are, IMO, quite possibly some of the most moving music on that excellent album. Booker T & the MGs made an entire career riding a groove and replacing the singer with an organ. It’s really a neglected art form, as opposed to the electronic instrumental, which makes up a large chunk of that type of music. To name just a few of the highlights, look at the emotions that the Boards of Canada generate without any sung words.

Steve Kilbey combines these two genres in his 1987 album Earthed. Despite the similar name to his solo debut Unearthed, the two albums couldn’t be more disparate. Earthed is an entire album of instrumentals meant to be played while reading the book of poetry of the same name. Where Unearthed was unforced and organic, Earthed shows Kilbey straining a bit. The music here is interesting, but much of it feels undeveloped, or at least contains interesting ideas that should have been developed more rather then being left as is. I also have to mention that the album does suffer from its time – like listening to old Tangerine Dream albums or Steve Hillage’s Rainbow Dome Musick, excellent music can be hidden by the primitive technology that produced it. What I mean by that is some of the sounds here sound a bit cheesy to the modern ear just because we’re so used to more advanced electronic techniques. Having said all of that, there’s much to enjoy here, especially if you can get past the dated production and hear the songs for what they want to be. Given that, here’s my impression of the album’s high and low lights:

Robert Lurie writes in his SK biography that the more successful pieces here are the "organic sounding ones," but I disagree. For instance, "The Dawn Poems" starts off well enough, with the deep keys playing a repeating riff, but once the chiming (organic) guitars come in, those interesting keys disappear and the song becomes simple strumming. It’s fun to listen to, and sounds great, but it goes nowhere as a song until the very end, when the guitar disappears and the keys and piano take over for a fleeting moment before the guitar enters again and strums us off into the sunset without having taught us anything. After listening to it a few times it’s got nothing left to offer.

"Newman" – the hero of the Earthed poetry – is treated musically here by a pondering bassline. It’s relatively static for a while before taking off into a walking melody with simplicato keys washing the background. It’s decidedly low-tech, and like most of the touches of this in the album, not for everyone, but I like it. Even more effective is the bridge here which injects a sense of climbing drama to the proceedings. It’s not a highlight but a solid song: as SK puts it: "it's what youd expect from sk trying to write a german spy theme."

"Dreambeings" does a lot in its 40 seconds. There are many different instruments, each one telling a different melody. It’s playful and fun and I wish there were more tunes like it on the album.

"The White Plague" – a pulsing, static bass note contrasted by the music-box keys playing naively above it. Not much going on here.

"A Loveletter from Sydney." One of the "organic" tunes. This one could have been turned into a pop-song with no problems. It’s a fun little ditty, distinguished by a fun guitar line that plays the vocals, and Kilbey’s fretless bass swooping and diving along.

"Carthage" has a pondering dignity about it, but also sounds like a traveling tune – Kilbey’s muted take on an ill-fated trip through the desert (like a soundtrack of to cowboys riding across the American West, but without the optimism) – no here, there’s a somber note, as if foreseeing the sacking of the town. Kilbey also successfully winds in some Arabic-sounding melodies and bass chanting, all of which successfully adds to a mood piece that is reminiscent of that ancient world.

"City of Women." Wonderfully melancholy. A piano riff in minor chords over an eerie woman’s voice wailing ghostlike over a ravaged town as the wind whips down the abandoned streets and small animals cower in the moonlight. Evocative, as you can tell. Continuing the theme of the shorter songs being the more effective.

"The Empire Mourns Her Sun Without Tears" sounds extremely dated, mainly because the main focus of the song is a keyboard riff that sounds like it’s straight from the 70s. It makes me think of Tangerine Dream, and not in a good way. The key washes here also sound dated. What’s interesting is that it sounds like a regular piano is playing underneath the keys, adding weight to them, but over all I can’t get past the cheesy-sounds in this tune.

"Cornucopia" sounds like it could have been on Unearthed. It’s a fun melody, presented as a bit of a nursery rhyme, and doesn’t overdo any of its elements. There’s an acoustic guitar that strums occasionally that adds to the song, but doesn’t overwhelm it did "The Dawn Poems." Some thunderstorm sounds in the background also add texture, but this is a sound experiment that’s just a fun listen.

"Memory" – this song does nothing for me. It starts off as an experimental sound collage with backward sound loops and a woman speaking in French before introducing an ominous rhythm and chugging industrial-style noise that builds up to overwhelm the speakers. Eventually, this all crashes into a gong-like crescendo, presenting the listener with a wind-swept plain where the camera tracks to a surprisingly green oasis painted by some very pleasant keyboard melodies. The second half of the song is extremely relaxing, and made me think of one of those Japanese gardens in the middle of the city where wind chimes are playing over an orderly nature scene. If you can get past the beginning, the ending is worth the journey.

"Aphrodite" is all tom-tom drums with the same kind of plodding keys that Carthage gave us. It’s a similar song, but doesn’t tell as much of a story.

"...The Reality Generators Malfunctioned" starts up with interesting "machines running down" sounds (that must represent the "malfunctioning") is followed by a dark piano riff and raindrop keyboard sounds before the tom toms kick in again and build the song up. After the first minute, there’s a lot going on – sounds everywhere competing for space, but also contributing to the whole – before the whole thing stops. Perhaps the repairman arrived?

"Napoleon’s Army, Christmas Eve, Outside Moscow." Pure sad nostalgia piano music. Sounds like something Deckard might hear in Bladerunner as the bar closes after a few too many whiskeys.

"Sad Little Piano Piece." Just as it sounds. No more, no less.

"Atlantis." Another of the "organic" songs. A typical rock instrumental in that the guitar plays the melody that would typically be sung.

The carnival rhythm of "The Woman Who was Married to Love" carries this song (minus the bizarre musical dithering of the bridge).

The album closes with Kilbey reading a series of poems. They’re evocative of a certain quizzical mindset, of the idea that everything is connected, and really an extension of Kilbey’s songwriting. It’s hard to describe the effect of these poems on me – I find them very entertaining and moving, even the ones that expound upon the idea that everything’s connected by simply presenting lists (along the lines of Church song "Welcome"). It did inspire this poem of my own that was a lot of fun to write.

In conclusion, it's an interesting album, but not one that I would recommend to anyone who didn't want to spend the time listening through the album's limitations. It's an oddity, to be sure - who would have thought that the verbose Kilbey would put out an album of instrumentals! - but one that, for me, is worth the listen.

Note: I’m planning on writing up my reaction to all of SK’s solo albums included in the Monsters n Mirages box set. Previous post: Unearthed. Next up: 1989’s The Slow Crack.