By Waking Aida
'Eschaton' is the wonderful debut album from Waking Aida.
Hailing from Southampton (home of Craig David, Jane Austen and Matt Le Tissier!) this instrumental post/math-rock quartet are signed to Maybeshewill's record label, Robot Needs Home, and peddle the type of music that fans of the aforementioned MSW, Vessels, Foals and Vampire Weekend will drool massive puddles of tongue sweat over whilst doing some kind of tippy-toe dance that doesn't even exist in real life.
Starting off with a short intro which kind of makes you feel like you're walking into church with a swarm of bumble bees the album then glides into opening track 'Incandenza'. It's not a church after all - it's a beach. And all your best pals are here! The bumble bees are selling ice-cream and there's a fat man wearing a red and white striped bathing costume with a moustache and a hankie on his head. Wonderful. Half way through the track and it gets all mathy-mathy, dancey-dancey. Massive, yet twinkly, guitar riffs abound and your pals are all cuddling each other with joyous tears in their eyes. A lovely speech sample towards the end of the track raises the emotions even higher.
The album continues with quiet moments of reflection and crushing crescendoes like a happy mouse on a surfboard playing water polo with a blue whale. The game ends in a draw and everyone rejoices.
Even though Eschaton only has seven full tracks it could never be described as a 'shorty' with all tracks ranging from between five minutes and almost nine minutes long. Each song is distinct and more than happy in its own company but is equally at ease chin-wagging with the track next to it. In fact, if you put them all together in the Big Brother house the programme would never end as they all love each other and would never vote each other out. What a wonderful thought.
It's difficult to pick a favourite song on the album as they're all so strong so let's just say it's final track 'This Isn't Even My Final Form' just because it's the last song and, therefore, is the one stuck in your head when it's all done and dusted. Two guitars pulse along. It all sounds pretty effortless yet incredibly complex at the same time. There's moments of sadness and moments of joy and then, a minute and a half from the end, the guitars sound almost like a computer programme before we suddenly hit climax. A cacophony of instruments running with each other and against each other, vying to be heard. It's a beautiful way to finish a beautiful album.
If this truly is the end of days I can't think of a more delightful way to end things on.