Rocks & Waves Song Circle - Rocks & Waves Song Circle

CONQUERING THE DAY, CHAMPIONED BY THE PEOPLE

Taking what is known, what is exacted, and extrapolating it into something entirely original is Rock & Waves' modus operandi on their magnificent debut. Its hushed and humbled existence - being, in all likelihood, the only album to come from Isaak Sundström's side project - inflames the aura even more. Rickety pews creaking in the breathy silence, a harmonized choir chanting alacrity to the heavens, improvisational moments as if taken over by the Holy Spirit. Rock & Waves Song Circle is Gospel through and through. However, in spite of this, there's a distinct lack of one crucial element: Religion. The tone instantly draws listeners to Christianity; the praise, worship, and communal warmth too. But God's seat lies vacant, occupied by an embrace of Earth in the moment, rather than a perceived Heaven of the future. The result naturally shifts Rocks & Waves into Outsider Art material by creating something so reliant on its crux... without it. Really, if anything, Rocks & Waves praises not the religion that spawned Gospel music, but Gospel music itself.

This is best seen on the stunning 'II (We Trust In Defeat).' Surrounded by the two, meandering builds of 'I (Rocks & Waves)' and 'III (Here We Come),' the composite whole of 'II' brews zeal in a perfect storm. It accepts, even admits, failure in order to overcome. Vocals from all angles (and angels) cry out in unsettled unison, repeating the adage "Never for victory, we trust in our defeat. We trust in the heart, we rely on the try." Each iteration grows, adding a layer here or a voice there, before culminating with a bevy of powerful instruments. It's as addicting as it is empowering.

And while nothing else on Rocks & Waves reaches the height of 'II,' everything around it maintains, and emanates, the spiritual atmosphere. 'I' and 'III' stretch drums, chimes, and a piano to their absolute limit, droning onwards and upwards. The pacing of these two songs are brilliantly-meditative, providing a subtle impetus in the repeated line, while soothing the soul of all transgressions. The 17-minute closer 'V (Perdidad)' does this too, but on a much larger scale. Here, the choir feels simultaneously intimate and expansive, as one can clearly hear background chatter, missed notes, even some laughter, as the song trudges on towards oblivion. Like a wave picking up everything in its path, a melodic chant and simple piano loop eventually engulfs the entire proceedings. By climax, those chatty side bars are gone, consumed by the force of community. While long, 'V' proves that Gospel - when done right - can be everlasting. And for those that believe in eternal life in Heaven, one can't ask for much more than that.