[Click play above to stream Uncle Woe’s Pennyfold Haberdashery & Abattoir Deluxe in full. Album is out March 18 with vinyl through Red Spade Records.]

It has not yet been two full years since Bancroft, Ontario-based mostly-solo-project Uncle Woe — aka Rain Fice — released their second full-length, Phantomescence (review here). Not even close, actually. But preceding the cumbersomely-and-perhaps-cheekily-titled Pennyfold Haberdashery & Abattoir Deluxe have been a spate of short releases, from Seasick & Old Friends and the three-song Don’t Look Down EP in early 2021 to “Nine Kinds of Time” being posted in Sept. to advance the album. It was also less than a full year between Uncle Woe‘s debut, Our Unworn Limbs (review here), and Phantomescence. What one might extrapolate from the relatively quick turnarounds to-date is a certain kind of creative and expressive urgency, and the emotionalism with which Fice executes the willfully unmanageable seven tracks/70 minutes of Pennyfold Haberdashery & Abattoir Deluxe reinforces that as well. From “We Plant the Seeds for Things We Know Will Never Grow” (12:34) at the outset through the bookending extended closer “Wax” (17:58), and the many cascades, builds, washes, chugs, experiments and spaces left open in between, the abiding sensibility is that this was a record Fice needed to make.

As one might expect, Pennyfold Haberdashery & Abattoir Deluxe answers the accomplishments of past Uncle Woe albums fluidly. “We Plant…” begins almost in medias res and digs itself into an atmosphere raw in the way of YOB‘s Atma, declaring itself more earthy than cosmic but touching ethereal ambience just the same as a midsection stretch of ambience buries the rumblefuzz bassline and drums, finds synth mixed in with guitar scratch and other noises, maybe some tapping on glass, before a sudden build shifts back into the full-tone march. Departures such as this are common throughout Pennyfold Haberdashery & Abattoir Deluxe in songs like the centerpiece “Merriment Abounds” (6:55) — another ironic title — the second track “Lavignia Falls” (7:20), on which Fice seems to reference Ancestors‘ glorious “First Light” in his blend of subdued lead guitar and organ, “Nine Kinds of Time” (8:04), the penultimate “Seasick” (8:49) and “Wax,” but despite the structural similarities that might persist, where Fice takes these breaks changes in terms of timing, arrangements, general purpose, and so on. With so much ground to cover from the outset as “We Plant…” devolves, marching in morose, almost staccato chugging fashion into its final wash of synth before giving way suddenly to the more subdued but still pervasively depressive beginning of “Lavignia Falls,” one could not accuse Fice of misusing the double-LP time he takes.

Fice‘s voice and malleable approach has never sounded more like a signature element than it does here, and while much of the scope and general atmosphere of these songs will be familiar to those who took in Phantomescence or Our Unworn Limbs — that is to say, he’s not doing anything so radically different — the level of growth showcased in the material belies the amount of time from one full-length to the next. “Lavignia Falls,” as well as that highlight stretch of guitar, finds Fice using vocals as a signal coming out of the intentionally-droning verse that the chorus is about to return, while the subsequent “Pretend I’m Dead” (9:05) — which would seem to have earlier origins and a co-arrangement by Josh Bruzzese — explores a deeper melodic purpose as it approaches its midsection as a setup for its later lumbering. It is willing to soar in a way that feels new, but Uncle Woe has been clever all along about blending melodic and harsh sides of the project’s persona, moving between echoing shouts calling out over the void and introspective, cleaner layering. Likewise, “Merriment Abounds,” which is the only inclusion under seven minutes long — hit single! — brings a subtle lushness to Fice‘s voice ahead of feedback and shouts announcing a resurgent riff to come, not quite full-on psychedelic but rife with greens and browns like a forest floor. Merriment, if it needs to be said, does not necessarily abound, but the turns and twists Fice brings throughout Pennyfold Haberdashery & Abattoir Deluxe offer a satisfying glimpse of the dynamic that’s developed in Uncle Woe, again, in relatively little actual time.

Hearing “Seasick,” which, like “Lavignia Falls,” was previously released, it’s hard not to wonder if the song was perhaps named for its grueling undulations of riff. So far in this review, the word “chug” has been used twice, and it could be used more, but the interplay of tension and release that comes therefrom is a palpable asset in Uncle Woe‘s favor. Once he digs in, Fice offers fleeting moments of relent — ambient middle parts, quiet ends and beginnings, etc. — and there is more happening even at the heaviest peaks of Pennyfold Haberdashery & Abattoir Deluxe than sheer assault. With bass tuned to ‘prehistoric’ and maybe-programmed drums, Fice answers the sludge-math at the ending of “Nine Kinds of Time” in “Seasick,” shifting from its delve into crooning vocals and grounded psych to weighted riffing that, indeed, might turn the stomach. Time signatures are deceptively tweaked and like the breadth of the album as a whole, are put to use in serving the song rather than acting as a demonstration of technicality or some such. Fice‘s goal here is immersion of his audience in this particular headspace, which can feel jumbled and disconnected at times but is ultimately under control in terms of its execution. Pennyfold Haberdashery & Abattoir Deluxe is not intended to be an easy ride, and it isn’t, but as Fice engages with his chief influences, the experimentation happening with synth and guitar effects, his increased vocal confidence and reach, and the overarching flow of the record as a whole make it worth reiterating the progression of Uncle Woe as a band.

Then comes “Wax” — as in, ‘the whole ball of.’ At just under 18 minutes, it’s the longest individual piece Fice has yet released for Uncle Woe, and it has a patience of approach that, after the relative intensity of “Nine Kinds of Time” and “Seasick” feels well-placed at the end of the album. Shades again of YOB in how the guitar reaches out from a drone at the start, begins to unfurl the procession of the track, joined by organ as it sets up the first verse that arrives around the three-minute mark and its harmonized, souful vocals. A build stops before the roaring takes hold, lower growling answering back to the apex of “We Plant…” without repeating it entirely, as the song sets about exploring the space it has made. It becomes more massive as it goes, until at last the fervency of the chug results in crashing, muted bursts of distortion and growl-laced cosmic doom. At about 13:20, the early guitar figure reemerges and makes ready to carry the song to its finish, but Fice still has more graceful layering to do in that process, bringing in what sounds like Mellotron to add to the resonant emotionalism of that last wash, which fades out in such a way as to make one think the track is holding on even though it knows it’s already over. Appropriately, the fact that Icarus’ wings were made of wax comes to mind.

The sense of motion Fice conjures across Pennyfold Haberdashery & Abattoir Deluxe isn’t to be understated. Through long fades, ambient breaks, quiet parts and no shortage of crush and crunch, a consuming feeling of movement is a uniting factor no less than Fice‘s tones or vocals themselves, and even as “Wax” is brought down to its and the album’s conclusion, that remains. It is further manifestation, maybe, of the urgency behind Uncle Woe‘s work to-date in the first place; a restlessness that is in and of the songs that finds them building and crashing down and building again, defeated and triumphant in a dynamic that is only bolstered by the accompanying atmosphere and mood. As the third LP from the band, Pennyfold Haberdashery & Abattoir Deluxe is focused and signals the ongoing evolution of Uncle Woe as an outfit, and feels more like a forward step in a series thereof than an arrival. In other words, one expects that movement and sonic progression to continue unabated.

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