For the past decade and a half, Melbourne multi-instrumentalist Garagee (nee Rob McPherson) has been releasing instrumental albums mixing his love for complex guitar work and eclectic production styles. Garagee III marks the first time vocals have graced a Garagee album. Whether or not that’s a good thing is a case by case basis.
Even if this is Garagee’s first album with vocals, vocals still only appear on about half of the songs. Opener “Tennaaa” is an instrumental just like we have all come to expect from McPherson. It bounces between Pinback-esque guitar and Ratatat-style production. The result is a track that sounds like it would have easily found a home on blogs in the early-to-mid-2000s.
The album’s second track, “Blood” is the first with vocals. Featuring The Church’s Steve Kilbey, it is hard to tell whether it is a good match or not. Kilbey sings over a melodious but tricky acoustic guitar riff and live drums. Instead of following what the guitar is doing, Kilbey vamps in way that often seems out of key from what is going on around him. Oddly, the song has a section that seems more Church-y with ambient synths, bossa nova acoustic guitar, and light percussion but Kilbey does not sing during that part. It ends up feeling like a poor utilization of the album’s biggest guest.
“Driver” is arguably a better use of vocals and the vocalist isn’t even named in the album credits. The instrumental is reminiscent of M83 with a steady pulse of percussive bass and synth flourishes. The female vocals anchor the track with storytelling lyrics about being a passenger in a car.
We truck through a few instrumentals including the somber “Fare Well.” With plenty of ambiance, it would be easy to think you’ve slipped into a Lemongrass album before a run of three tracks with vocals. “Firewall” features fellow Aussie, Jane McArthur and it continues the sleepy feel of “Fare Well.” McArthur’s soulful voice is reminiscent of Natalie Merchant over light drums, guitar, and what sounds like surface noise. The story of the song is arguably more interesting the track itself. McPherson explains “I made the percussive elements out of retro, 90’s modem sounds” and a “4-string tenor guitar being fed through a vintage tape delay.” All that experimentalism leads to something that sounds like a fairly good 10,000 Maniacs song.
While “Not Our Nature” does not have the same interesting explanation as “Firewall,” it sounds infinitely more experimental. Featuring Pink Tights on vocals, McPherson describes the lyrics as “claustrophobic reflection on the perils of communication through technology, and the truth found in the organic.” Sung through a filter so that it sounds like a human harmonizing with a computerized voice, it illustrates the song’s concept adeptly. While it is an uncomfortable listen, it is maybe the best track with vocals on Garagee III.
The final track with vocals and the album’s penultimate offering is “Limbosis.” Unlike the other songs, Lindsay Phillips acts not as a singer but as a narrator. Speaking over light acoustic guitar work, the song is reminiscent of other Australian luminary Baz Luhrmann. It is like a more ambient follow up to “Everybody’s Free” with words of wisdom like “if a seed is planted and nurtured, it will surely grow.”
The album’s final track is also the oldest composition to appear on Garagee III. “Nothing To See Here...And Everything” is back to a Lemongrass feel with acoustic guitar and lush synth pads over field recordings of birds chirping. It is a peaceful way to close the hodgepodge of an album.
While the output of Garagee III is wide and varied so has the output of Garagee’s entire career; the only real difference here is the incorporation of vocals. While not ever vocal collaboration makes the most enthralling content, it does add another tool for McPherson to have at his disposal going forward. Vocals are yet another instrument for him to utilize in his compositions and while it may take some time to perfecting the art of collaborating with vocalists, Garagee III delivers some solid starting points.
Rating: 6.9/10