Cloth — Waggon

Splitting from the trio Food People, Lila Matsumoto and Matthew Hamblin formed Cloth and sought out Chocolate Monk for their debut, Waggon. Soft and artistic, the duo mix spoken word, performance art with minimalist textures to create their delicate mark on the experimental scene. Sometimes whimsical, but often a bit over-serious, Waggon is a mixed bag of overlapping layers.

Waggon is an interesting album that aims in a few directions, simultaneously, and not really on purpose. Sometimes, this has a solid effect, while others, it comes off as a bit pretentious. This may have to do with the unevenness of the mix and the almost haphazard way in which it changes. The spoken word element feels meandering and the music in the background is completely detached from it. This divide, coupled with the very heavy in the mix words and far off backing, makes this album feel like a few different recordings played at the same time. On their own, the musical tracks are effective and intriguing. Some soft, some noisy, some folky, some minimal, they all have a certain something that keeps them engaging, and the change from track to track keeps the listener involved. However, they spoken word is given the forefront here and is overbearing. It's this inescapability that really hurts this album, as instead of being able to ignore these words, one begins to resent their existence on the album. However, if avant-poetry is one's bag, this album could very well be right up his/her alley.

Suffering from an uneven mix and material that is too on the over-important side, Cloth's Waggon doesn't hit the mark. More of a collection of sounds and words than songs, the material on this album feels a bit premature in its release and could have benefited from a bit more time at the desk, and quite possibly, a bit more time in the creation phase.  While the ideas may work from time to time, the execution is off, and Waggon certainly suffers for it.