Named after a weathered and decomposed deposit of the earth itself, the moniker Eluvium has a particular schema about it. It gives the listener a distinct impression before hitting the play button. We hear this name, and a melancholy aura naturally surrounds it. In fact, Matthew Cooper has built a reputation off of his alias, creating soundscapes low in morale but high in heart-felt emotion. Copia does this no less than Eluvium’s previous albums, yet almost to a fault. Are we witnessing progression in Cooper’s style, or simply the same approach from a different angle?
There are two aspects to this album which stand out as major points of critique. The first involves monotony. Throughout each song, Cooper writes and therein builds upon one particular “loop”. The second point follows in tail: emphasis and prevalence of one particular instrument. Rather than follow the common layer-building technique of many ambient artists, Cooper travels with his songs. A primary riff is played, and ever so subtly will the song move forward, patiently opening the stage curtains to a bright, saturated light just beyond.
Patience is a key word here, because Copia won’t appeal to the high-strung and emotionally restless. Or perhaps this music is just what such people need. These tracks could easily be the real-time reflection, the outlet, of Cooper’s personal struggle with swelling emotions. And swell, Copia certainly does. Droned strings are noticeable throughout the entire album, flowing subtly like wisps at a campfire. All the while, the one loop that Cooper laid down from the start is building in intensity.
Possibly the best aspect about the swelling approach in Copia is that there is no self-indulgent crescendo. The songs will perfectly fade out; not too slowly, but just as if one were overcoming an emotion after hours of wallowing in it. Yet on the same token, it’s important to note that Cooper has made use of this technique on previous albums. Lambent Material features tracks such as “Under The Water It Glowed”, which fits the same formula. The difference is that he masters (or improves upon) it on Copia.
With as much praise as is necessary for such a beautiful peace of work, monotony is still monotony. I applaud Copia for how tangible its mood is, but analysis of innovation and creativity soon flood the room and my hands hesitate, if only for a moment.
| Reviewer: Jim Pearse Added: March 19th 2007 |
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