Void Generator: Grounded in Space
If the quizzical title Phantom Hell and Soar Angelic presents a twist for your brain (do they mean “phantom” as a verb, like you could turn Hell into a ghost of some kind?), then that’s just the beginning of the puzzles Italian trio Void Generator have to offer on their third release. Following a 2004 self-titled EP and 2006’s We Have Found the Space, Phantom Hell and Soar Angelic (Phonosphera Records) is four tracks and well over an hour of anti-gravitational psychedelic rock, the finest attribute of which might be its timing. The Roman four-piece (five if you count Bob the Rich on “accumulation,” which I think means “recording”) have an impeccable sense of when to rock and when to space out.
To wit, the memorable Phantom Hell and Soar Angelic opener, “Message from the Galactic Federation,” which manages to work both a catchy chorus and hyper-extended airy parts into its 15:14 length. My first time through, I waited the full three-plus minutes (not an unreasonable amount of time given the scale of the song) for the vocals to come on and ruin it, but guitarist Gianmarco Iantaffi didn’t disappoint, his delivery maintaining a balance between rough rock and melodic crooning that’s got just enough effects behind it to cut through the guitars, synth, bass and drums. Vocals aside, what sets Void Generator apart from the space rock hordes seems to be their willingness to rein in their jams, to bring them back to the songs, and where many bands seem to plow through their verses and choruses like they’re punching a clock waiting to get to the 10-minute go-nowhere jam – not always a bad thing, mind you – Void Generator remember they’re writing songs here, not just showing off or screwing around. “Message from the Galactic Federation” repeats parts at just the right times, and manages to remain what political pundits call “on point” for its duration. No small achievement.
If the opener sets the bar high, though, the rest of Phantom Hell and Soar Angelic delivers on its promise. The shortest track on the album, a mere 13:04, is “The Morning.” It’s more open-ended feeling than was the opener, but it’s also a show-off point for the rhythm section. Bassist Sonia Caporossi and drummer Marco Cenci (who plays on the latter tracks, while Marco Ricci played on the first) carry most the song, leaving Iantaffi and synth-specialist Cristiano Lodi to add flourishes and contribute to the gradual build, which they do in subtle, confident fashion. Toward the song’s end, Lodi’s work becomes especially apparent, and adds a soft melody to the driving rock behind it in the mix. As a setup for the ostensibly “final” cut, the wonderfully-named 18:12 overture, “The Eternaut,” it works immaculately and with considerable flow.
Phantom Hell and Soar Angelic could probably be taken in its parts, because each song is long enough and structured with its own build, apex and comedown, but I think the album is best as a whole, despite the considerable time investment it requires. “The Eternaut” opens quietly and unfolds to Void Generator’s most potent groove yet. By now, the band has established all their modes of attack, but I found the synth-led break between minutes four and seven to be an especially nice touch. Their balance of structure vs. indulgence gives way to a noisy ending that’s a surprise given the tightness of the rest of the album, but not at all out of place within the genre. And anyway, it’s only a couple minutes, which on the scale of Phantom Hell and Soar Angelic, isn’t much.
The remainder of the album’s total 70-plus minutes is filled by the untitled secret track, which begins with synth ambient for the first few minutes of its total 23:42 runtime. Vocals come more sparsely here, appearing for the first time around 10 minutes in, but Iantaffi fills out the melodic side of the song with plenty of soloing, and the slower pace gives a more laid back vibe, so you’re not expecting the same kind of approach Void Generator showed on the other three tracks. Perhaps the band decided the song was best left to a secret track because of its more fluid nature, but it’s not so different tonally from anything else on Phantom Hell and Soar Angelic that it wouldn’t have fit in the tracklisting. Maybe they wanted to surprise anyone who thought their album was only going to be 45 minutes long. It wasn’t an unpleasant surprise, anyway.
This is my first experience with Void Generator, but I’m going to go back and try to get ahold of the EP and prior full-length if I can, because what I’m hearing on Phantom Hell and Soar Angelic is a band whose grasp on both ends of space rock (those being the “space” and the “rock”) is firm and brilliantly executed. As an introduction to what they do, I can’t think of anything to ask of this record that isn’t delivered.
Tags: Italy, Phonosphero, Rome, Void Generator
