It’s a cliché but creatives are often asked ‘Where do you get your ideas?’. Think about it, it’s a ridiculous question, but in the case of Sugar Horse it seems perfectly valid. They think outside outside the box. They have so many ideas that even writing about their music is tricky. They refuse to be defined by genre and their love of mixing post-rock/post-metal with absolutely anything, including the kitchen sink, makes their work notoriously difficult to categorise. That said, after releasing an album and a handful of EPs, they have at least created a defined Sugar Horse sound. Basically they have two extremes; one a vague, shimmery, shoegazy haze, and the other, a detuned sludge metal assault. Most songs fit somewhere between the two; often doing both at the same time – except when they don’t. Think Isis or Old Man Gloom, or My Diligence’s ‘Death. Horses. Black.’ from earlier this year, only more so.
This, their second full-length album is called ‘The Grand Scheme of Things’ and it certainly is grand. It’s a nine track epic containing a sense of scale that they really haven’t explored before. While their debut album ‘The Live Long After’ had an upward trajectory, opening out wider and wider until it went supernova; this feels like an extension of that same explosion, spreading across the cosmos.
The album opens like an exhale, all soft edges, and clean singing, rolling gently along, creating a false sense of security. It’s in no rush to show you its dark side. In fact in basks in its own sense of majesty, so much so that the shimmering ‘The Shape Of ASMR To Come’ with its huge pounding drums, sounds like a cathedral-filling grand finale, except it’s only track 2. From this point onward, the devil starts to show itself and the songs begin to twist and contort in ways that are both strangely fascinating and bowel-tremblingly heavy, often both. However, because of the album’s thoughtful construction, it all feels earned and never loses the sense of cosmos-crossing propulsion.
Speaking of the band’s dark side, it would be amiss not to point out some of the stunning sounds they manage to create. Most obviously there’s sawing guitar and nasty little riffs on ‘Office Job Simulator’ or the way the massive crushing riff on ‘New Dead Elvis’ is paired with post-hardcore style singing to create a raw, almost ugly pop song. While ‘Jefferson Airplane Over The Sea’ sparkles through its entire runtime, it has an abrasive edge and thrives on its gentle sense of discomfort. Despite these harsh sounds, it’s never off-putting, and it’s not a difficult album. It’s always thoughtful, and its careful structuring makes his makes it easily the band’s most accessible piece of work, and not because it is in any way restrained.
Despite having an almost comically large bag of tricks, Sugar Horse’s biggest is turning a lovely, shimmery song into something so dark and heavy it resembles a black hole. Take ‘Spit Beach’ which spends a minute or so convincing you it’s a pleasant dad-rocker only to collapse into something that would humiliate most blackgaze bands. Similarly, the distant, chamber choir sound of ‘Mulletproof’ transitions via a raw, sickening yell and cavernous drumming into a detuned throb that’s so deeply heavy it could be mistaken for a gravitational wave. And yes, it’s the same trick that they pull on ‘Office Job Simulator’ where the wicked riff becomes slower, darker and heavier, and then even slower, even darker and even heavier while letting the buzzing notes ring out forever, but each song has its own feel, its own sound and works within its own contorted logic. You can almost feel the band grinning wickedly as the songs take an unexpected but horribly effective turn and then another, twisting and contorting in such gleeful ways it’s like listening to a musical adaptation of John Carpenter’s The Thing.
Of course, with a Sugar Horse record, there’s a certain amount of challenge involved. This type of music demands it. Even so, beads of sweat might start to form on your brow as you realise the closing track ‘Space Tourist’ has a runtime of 24 whole mins. The first part passes easily enough with two minutes of beautiful singing, but then it drops heavy. After a good pummelling, you’re abandoned around the five-minute mark as the familiar full-band sound ends and the song becomes an indistinct evolving shimmer – shifting in pitch, and eventually welcoming a static hiss. It’s gloriously indulgent and strangely hypnotic as other elements are very gently added including barely discernible twinkles. Nothing seems to be happening, but something always is and these indistinct sounds drifts on and on to the point you dare them to continue for another 19 minutes – (Spoiler – they do). It’s a sound almost like the Voyager space probe leaving the solar system and a masterclass in driving you very gently insane. Whichever way you look at it, you probably didn’t have ‘ambient soundscapes’ on your Sugar Horse bingo card.
Take a listen to Sugar Horse’s catalogue and you might feel that some of their work doesn’t quite hit the spot. You might feel that their daring creative choices don’t always pay-off. However, because they take chances, because they forever push themselves, they have ended up making a record like this, one that rewards the patient and the curious. Wildly creative, personal and often downright dirty, its massive scope eclipses their debut making this the defining Sugar Horse experience.
Imagine an amateur stargazer peering through a telescope and seeing a vast, dangerous cosmos. Sugar Horse ask what you hope to find, remind you what was left behind, and in ‘The Grand Scheme Of Things’ tell you that even the most insignificant details matter.
IAN KENWORTHY