Wilderness, (k)no(w)here

It was like walking alone in the mind of a person tripping on acid while hallucinating on mushrooms. The guitar strummed, and it began; the sounds hit like a wave of colors smacking me in the face, waking me up to a new world. The drums followed soon after, and I realized I was falling deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole, falling and screaming. What can take me out of this world and throw me into a spatial, dream-like sequential world? An unconventional band from Baltimore, Maryland, oddly enough, with the name Wilderness. Wilderness has always been an unconventional band, and with the release of their third full-length album, (k)no(w)here, they may have garnered that title more to themselves.

(k)no(w)here is eight tracks that are not readily separated from each other, the flow from each song to the next is so smooth, and you’d be a fool not to think that all the tracks have the same guitar track layered over them. There may be a reason why this album plays like one big track, as opposed to eight individual songs. The composition came from an invitation to collaborate with renowned visual artist Charles Long at Long’s exhibit at the Whitney Biennial in the spring of ’08.

I will admit at first listen I found myself cringing at the music, thinking it was nothing more than a mess of nothing passing off as music. On that first listen, I couldn’t even bring myself to finish it, stopping after only the third track. Two weeks passed before I allowed my ears another listen. What I found then was sounds not heard before. It was no longer a mess of noise passing off as music, but instead a mess of beautiful, stylistic slow jams with a couple of missed opportunities for greatness.

From the fist track, “High Nero,” with its wavy, airy intro that kicks off an assault of vividly imaginative visions into your brain via your ears, you get the sense that this album will open up a portal into some forgotten world. With the lights off and your mind open, you’ll also receive this album how I received it on that second listening. Although at the start I praised this album and its band for its uniqueness and willingness to create a truly mind-expanding album, it’s not without its misses.

During the first six tracks, the guitars and drums seem to have the Repeat button stuck, with the guitar giving the same sound — a whiny riff that runs on — and the drums seem very skeletal and barely there. Making matters worst is singer James Johnson’s wailing and howling, rising, falling, and lifting his voice over and over and over chanting theatrically. So difficult is his voice that one can’t understand what he’s singing about. James Johnson does a good Isaac Brock (Modest Mouse) imitation, but unfortunately, it seems to miss when placed next to the music his band mates play.

The seventh track, “Soft Cage,” sees Wilderness break out of the mold set within the first six tracks. The track starts with a tom-heavy drum pattern and cymbals that shimmer and splash over a guitar lead that echoes with light distortion. But again Wilderness singer James Johnson joins the track and begins to wail his voice which at times tends to draw attention from the music. Wilderness would do better if the band could become a strictly instrumental band a la Explosions in the Sky, or if James Johnson could find some way to add a melodic approach to his vocals.

On Wilderness’s last track “<…^…>” (and yes, that is the title of the song), James Johnson is joined vocally by guitarist Colin McCann, who complements the music well. I wouldn’t surprise me to hear him jump on more tracks and even take more of the singing over from principal Wilderness singer James Johnson. Wilderness are a band unlike any other, and like the band name suggests, it’s okay — encouraged, in fact — to get lost in the Wilderness.