MV & EE’s latest offering, Space Homestead, is hardly an album full of contradictions. For as ramshackle as it is, there’s no sound or instrument that seems unexpected or out of place. Still, the the contrasting imagery of the title (nomadic and boundless vs. settled and self-contained; intimate and direct vs. aloof and meandering) is a noticeable motif throughout the 37 minute album. Opener “Heart Like Barbara Steele” lays down the groundwork with ambient, volume pedal-produced tones which are then overtaken (in not the smoothest manner) by the plucky acoustic guitar of “Workingman’s Smile.” What starts as an aimless, atmospheric float is yanked down to a work shed full of sloppy yet comforting instrumentation. It’s these types of shifts that will make you cock your head in curiosity but ultimately they’re the reason the album transcends the sum of its parts.
Messy transitions are a hallmark here, and the group succeeds best when they undercut the familiar with the obtuse and vice versa. Ethereal folk-out “Too Far to See” devolves into a jammy guitar solo unconcerned with direction, but when follower “Wasteland” opens with a crisp acoustic guitar lick that undeniably recalls Pink Floyd’s “Wish you Were Here,” it pays off. If that classic rock reference is too general or obvious, that’s where MV & EE’s experimentalism and sense of humor come into play. “Sweet Sure Gone’s” flanged guitar and falsetto background vocals are golden 70s until the band endlessly ponders “Shit’s Creek,” with curious lyrics and questionable use of harmonica. Like Royal Trux before them, the band employs enough classic rock and folk references to grab your attention, but then spends the rest of the time subverting them.
Speaking of Royal Trux, like that band, MV & EE’s endgame is a bit of a mystery here. There’s not much of a sense of a whole, and sometimes you wish the band would make up their minds and commit to either folksy throwback rock or outro psychedelia; other acts on the album’s Woodsist label, like Kurt Vile and flagship band Woods, have created hybrids of those two sensibilities that feel more complete. Still, it’s MV & EE’s dedication to switching it up so frequently that keeps the album afloat. If there is a destination to Space Homestead, it’s not a cohesive one, but it’s the method in which we get there that MV & EE seem to enjoy tweaking.
