Wim Lecluyse's Circle Bros (nè Brothers) have been part of the Morc family almost as long as they've existed, which is actually really quite a long time now. First emerging at the end of the last century in the context of the first recognised wave of 'post-rock', they've developed and refined a sound over 30 years and, now counting this new one, seven albums, which shows just how open and wide that once much-maligned taxonomy has become (perhaps was always meant to be, conceptually at least). Wade is ostensibly post-rock in form and approach, in the sense that it's a confluence of so many other things - post-industrial, neo-folk, drone, spacerock, minimalism and, well, you get the idea. Everything and nothing. The haunting spectre of once-contemporaries Bark Psychosis, Windy & Carl and Labradford feels especially pronounced here, Lecluyse presenting a series of slow-moving, open-space dirges and after-midnight hymns suffused in blue light. The structure is expansive and seemingly semi-improvised, more indebted to atmosphere and texture than any accepted idea of conventional song, tracks drifting in and out of one another as if part of the same clouded mind or simply pulled from the ether. Liminal spaces, time-dilation, interstitiality - Pseuds Corner buzzwords - the use of which can lead only to me begging for the grace of your forgiveness - that do nonetheless give you a pretty good idea of the aesthetic being worked out here. These are the songs of the in-between, the ghosts that walk your house at night, the thoughts that emerge in the mind's eye as you lie sleeplessly alone. We all know that sound. It's always been there. Wade proves itself a vessel for that kind of song.
FFO: Bark Psychosis, Coil, Labradford, CS+Kreme, Windy & Carl
