Album Review: The Invisible - Rispah

The Invisible
Rispah
Rating: Grrrr

The Invisible, a London three-piece fronted by Dave Okumu, nearly ran off with the Mercury Prize for their eponymous debut album, which the band tongue-in-cheek described as "Experimental Genre-Spanning Spacepop." Returning for their sophomore release Rispah, Okumu has said that the recording was overshadowed and influenced by the death of his mother. He mentioned in an interview that "One evening, during the wake, my grandmother Zilpa, my mother’s mum, arrived at our home accompanied by a group of women singing traditional spirituals. They approached my mother’s body and sang over it, dancing around her coffin. It was the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. They transformed the atmosphere with sound and the spirit they brought to it. They were celebrating life and death, grief and hope, all things." This mood infiltrates the album in every pore.

Gone are the sprightly jams of the debut album supplanted for a more somber, melancholy tone. Instead of the usual references to Bloc Party, TV On The Radio, and LCD Soundsystem, Rispah seems deeply influenced by Radiohead at their most searching. There is a languid, dreamy quality to these somber tracks, like you are inside the head of the griever, all their emotions swirling in a mix of sadness paired with all the good and bad memories of their loved one. The album is bookended and infused with samples of the traditional spirituals that Okumu referred to, adding a personal touch to these tracks. "A Particle of Love" begins the record with those samples surrounded by a whooshing array of analog synths, creating a disjointed, haunted start before leading into "Generational" where echoing guitars ping over burbles and bleeps of dark electronics.



Okumu's voice, supple and calming, floats within the mix as pianos and electronic and acoustic drums keeps up the pace. There is a clinical nature to the songs, as if they are almost afraid to show any sort of crack in the facade, else all the emotions spill out at once. Single "Wings" almost breaks free, the drums seeming agitated, brushing up against a nervous bassline and whirring electronics.



One of the subtle highlights of the record is "Lifeline" a desperate plea to hide from the pain with pills. The dreaminess of the song perfectly suits the mood of the track with lines like "the lifeline only comes when you are on the verge of drowning."



Things take a darker, post-punk edged turn on "The Great Wound" with growling basslines and clattering drums.



But there are moments of contemplative quiet, like on the ringing "Surrender" whose guitars gently caress Okumu's whispered vocals,



the gorgeous "The Wall," which has Okumu trying to remain upbeat in the presence of overwhelming truths; the guitars echoing in a fog of despair,



and the liquidy eloquence of "The Stain."



All coming to a close with the brilliant single "Protection" which moves effortlessly from a muted opening to a full throttle shoegaze outro laced with the haunting African vocal samples.



Some might say that Rispah leans too heavily on its Radiohead influences and also that it strikes a too even pace and keel throughout. For me, these worked in the album's favor, never been too showy or too aloof. It's an album that immediately strikes you yet takes its time getting in your system. It was an interesting surprise for me, and highly recommended.

Rating Scale:

Chilfos: masterpiece; coolest thing I've heard in ages.

Woof Daddy: excellent; just a hair away from being a masterpiece.

Grrrr: very good; will definitely be considered for my top releases of the year.

Yeah Daddy Make Me Want It: good; definitely invites further listens and piques one's interest for more material.

Meh: not horrible, but certainly not great; could have either been polished, trimmed, or re-thought.

Jeez Lady: what the hell happened? Just plain bad. They should hang their heads in shame and be forced to listen to Lady Gaga ad nauseam as penance.

Tragicistani: so bad, armed villagers with pitchforks and torches should run the artist out of the country for inflicting this abomination on the human race.