Album: Vondelpark – Seabed

Released: 1st April 2013

R&S Records

7/10

Music fans currently suffering from post-dubstep/alt R&B ennui brought on by the popularity of James Blake and his countless imitators will probably find a lot to dislike in this debut from the London trio, but those who can stomach another forty-five minutes of auto-tuned vocals and guitar lines that sound like they were found at the bottom of the Marianas trench should stick around.

Named after the Amsterdam park beloved by stoners and shroom-heads, the band are one of part of a growing roster of bands on R&S who combine the euphoria and bittersweet melancholy associated with all the best dance music with a distinctly indie sensibility that owes far more to 4AD stalwarts such as Cocteau Twins and Efterklang than the label’s usual line up of forward thinking techno and bass producers.

Opener ‘Quest’ is a perfect example of the band’s intriguing take on a style that has often felt tired and unimaginative since its inception, blending a gorgeous, chiming chord progression with lead singer Lewis Rainsburys’ unintelligible vocals against a shuddering backbeat. On first listen the effect is almost like hearing elevator muzak, a problem which is exemplified by second track ‘Blue again’, which rides a groove caught somewhere between a Sade B-side and a Hed Kandi chill-out comp. But where those records trade in polished, calculated simplicity designed to soothe the listener into forgetting whatever it is they’re actually hearing, the repetition of ideas on this record is deceptive; each song gradually reveals layers of lush instrumentation under its electronic sheen, and striking hooks come to those who wait.

While none of the tracks deviate much from this Caribou Djing sunset-at-Ibiza mood, the time invested by the band in refining their subtle, atmospheric approach over the past two years becomes apparent over the course of the album in which they effortlessly switch from electronic and live sounds, from the blissful Balearic house of ‘Bananas (On my biceps)’ to the elegant tropical blues of ‘California Analog Dream’. On this latter track the trio eschew the dense synthlines found elsewhere on the album in favour of a near-acoustic approach, affording Rainsbury’s mournful lyrics a much greater role in the mix, interspersed only with gorgeous strains of harmonica and steel drums. The results are stunning and I’d be surprised if it doesn’t top most people’s track of the year lists. It also points to the best logical step forward for the band, offering a rare moment of clarity on an album which swoons a few too many times under the heady fog of its own stoned logic.

For now, Vondelpark is unlikely to conquer more than the Youtube surfing, Majestic Casual crowd, but if they can synthesize the mature songwriting of this track with the house and R&B elements which they sample so effectively elsewhere, they could offer an exciting and genuinely original vision of what a band can be in 2013, one that the current musical landscape (and the Mercury Prize) is crying out for.