"On their debut, Providence-based Black Forest/Black Sea offer seven chilly
field recordings placed within a half-improvised framework of guitar, cello and
sundry accented glitches. After piecing together a magnificent patchwork tent of
bark, calico fabric, twisted vines, and fallen stars, the duo-- featuring
ex-members of experimental folk troupe Iditarod-- sets up an austere camp in the
enchanted psych-folk glen also inhabited by Ghost, Charalambides, Six Organs of
Admittance, Fursaxa, and the Jewelled Antler Collective. In addition to Jeffrey
Alexander's guitar (finger-picked and bowed) and Miriam Goldberg's cello
(pitch-shifted and ring modulated), Black Forest/Black Sea incorporate hissing
short-wave radio, omnichord, haunting vocal melodies, saxophone, rusty
percussion, 8-rpm phonograph, reel-to-reel noise, drone, feedback, fireside
crackles, and some general knob turning. Catchier, darker, and less composed
than their Iditarod forebears, Black Forest/Black Sea's diminutive freak-outs
are surprisingly addictive. "Sevastopol", which reverences the Ukranian Black
Sea fishing port, is an autumnal patch of creepy chamber-music woven with
repetitious arpeggios, sturdy cello, backward loops, and the scent of a woodsy
bacchanalia. The heavily-plucked "Blackbird on Gray Sky" employs female vocals
and swirling instrumentation to lock into its groove, a straightforward
troubadour piece until the vocals double and crunchy percussion begins to
accompany what sounds like a warped singing saw, bird calls, spectral voices,
and shimmering electronics. "Beautiful Here", meanwhile, is more trebly and
compressed, a muffled sonic effect like the strains of Medieval bards leaking to
your eardrum from someone else's headphones. The lyrics capture the deceptively
simple remembrance of a forestal epiphany: the song ends with a field recording
of birds, breezes, trees. Here and elsewhere, Black Forest/Black Sea tweak a
silvan melancholy; even when the players are happy, it's depressing. Though each
song is successful in its own small way, on "Sunday Market", the acid-folk
finally explodes outward with a jangling astronomy. Locating the bedroom version
of Magic Hour's transcendent density, a quick Casio beat and snowballing of
layered sounds-- alto sax, jarring spring reverb, and caterwauling feedback
pretending to be a pack of crows-- catapult the listener into quaking treetops.
If every track reached these heights, this record would be required listening;
triple the length of "Sunday Market" and godhead is not simple hyperbole. The
finale, "Lump in Throat", neatly brings the vibe back down to earth; its organ
drones and synthesized drum beat lay a foundation for end-time stargazing,
intuitively capturing the fragile rhythms of cracked branches: place a pillow
over your head, grab your water-damaged copy of The House of The Seven Gables,
and await your next personal witch hunt. Regardless of the modest earlier tracks
and the brevity of the whole affair, there's plenty of beauty shot through this
old-world sleepwalk. Especially impressive as a debut, at this point Black
Forest/Black Sea offers a gorgeous snapshot of the free psych underground, one
of the purest spaces of otherworldly terrain in the current musical landscape. I
look forward to future incantations." - Brandon Stosuy, Pitchfork Media,
Chicago, IL
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