Mammatus, Sparkling Waters: Crisp, Clear and Refreshing
A quicker turnaround for Coastal Cali psych rockers Mammatus brings their fourth album, Sparkling Waters (on Spiritual Pajamas), just two years after their third, Heady Mental (review here). Reasonable by any stretch of the imagination, but it was six years between Heady Mental and its 2007 predecessor, The Coast Explodes, so worth noting. The Coast Explodes also featured a beach scene on its cover, though one tinted yellow either by sunset or manipulation, and had a cast of characters. True to the music on its four extended tracks — one per side on a 2LP — Sparkling Waters is more clearheaded.
Mammatus‘ latest work builds on the progressive turn they showcased on Heady Mental, but the trio of guitarist Nicholas Emmert, bassist Chris Freels and drummer Aaron Emmert still have undertones of the psychedelia that populated The Coast Explodes and their 2006 self-titled debut, though on “Sparkling Waters Part One” (22:04), it comes through not in lysergic jamming, but in a hypnotic repetition of Nicholas‘ guitar lead, sweetly melodic and captured with the utmost clarity by Phil Manley (Trans Am), who mixed Heady Mental and was brought in this time to produce. Since that clarity becomes such a defining feature of Mammatus‘ sound this time through, it seems only fair to tag the 74-minute Sparkling Waters as more prog than psych. In everything they do across these four pieces, there is a sense of poise and reason, from the aural sunrise at the beginning of “Sparkling Waters Part One” to the explosive finish of the fuzzier “Ornia,” which closes.
Between and including those two, Sparkling Waters is more joyous pilgrimage than slog by a wide margin, the Emmerts and Freels bringing the listener through a complex but naturalist wash much bolstered and fleshed out with synth that adds to the melodies of the guitar and fills some of the spaces cast open by the drums, which, along with Freels‘ bass tone, are themselves a highlight for the energy they bring to what in many hands would be simple repetition. “Sparkling Waters Part One” is both opener and longest track (immediate points) and it breaks roughly in half, its second linear build even more satisfying than the first for the context the first gives it. A foundation of keys and quiet drums swells in dreamy fashion as it moves ahead, and as they approach 15 minutes in even vocals seem to arrive (!) as part of the crashing cymbal waves, and finally, at about 16:40, the guitar stuns like a type-2 phaser shot and bolts outward to consume much of the track’s remaining five minutes with increasingly unhinged noodling.
I half expected “Sparkling Waters Part Two” (20:30) to pick up right where “Part One” finished, but while it has the same sampled ocean sounds, it fades in even on the digital version, marking a clear change in side that’s matched with a shift in intent as “Part Two” unfolds. Synth textures weave in and out of the first 12-plus minutes, Mammatus‘ otherworldly vibe taking various shapes across a trance-enducing span that, in the end — and by “the end,” I mean “with eight minutes still to go in the song” — is consumed by the arrival of a standalone guitar line. They finish with odd-time chugging, a long, long way from whence they came, even after the guitar started, but by the time they’ve gotten there, the conventions of songwriting are so far gone they’re easily forgotten. As it is technology I don’t understand, I have no choice but to call it magic.
Certainly the two-part title-track(s) should be a focal point in listening, but “The Elkhorn” (15:00) and “Ornia” (17:20) are an album unto themselves and showcase how willing Mammatus is to play to one side or another within their sound. “The Elkorn” is more intense initially than the bulk of the first or second part of “Sparkling Waters” and so brings Heady Mental to mind, since a major distinguishing factor between the newer material and the older is it’s more patient. An opening run of guitar and synth, bass and drums lead into more synthly travels, the keys taking hold as a major driving force before the halfway mark and, amid crowd noise, pushes into a more temperate movement of well-punctuated drums, lyric-less vocals, thicker distortion and slow-motion space rock. With about four minutes to go, the song essentially ends, and keys pick up and cap the track in a complete wash, gorgeous if somewhat unexpected.
There isn’t much left by the time they get to the last fade, but as ever, it’s getting there that’s the trip. And to finish out, “Ornia” more or less offers a summary not only of what Mammatus have done to this point on Sparkling Waters, but also to this point in their career. It’s graceful in how it plays out, and plenty progressive, but they also dig into thicker distortion, doomier rolling, vocals following the guitar, synth minimalism and, finally, a tap into the jammier style of their early work which, though definitely plotted, is an engaging final statement for Mammatus to make. Not only does it highlight their growth as a unit that they’ve shown all across these pieces, but that they haven’t forgotten where they started out sonically either. Its grand finish winds up making Sparkling Waters feel all the more refreshing, and that seems to be precisely what Mammatus had in mind. I wouldn’t speculate where they’ll go from here or when their next outing will arrive, but on Sparkling Waters, Mammatus sound like a band who want to keep moving forward, and hopefully they do.
Great review…although I think a lot of those “synth” sounds is actually guitar. Played with an ebow.