 RANE
Progressive
Pop for the 21st Century
They
were a part of the Earth since the Earth was
Earth, when it had less girth but was full of
mirth. They were the product of an eruption of
great force, sent from the depths of the Earth's
core to appease those that inhabit its surface,
and to conquer their arts. They create music
of vastly diverse influence, an amalgam of serene
beauty and jazzy tranquility delivered with propulsive
energy and sonic creativity. Their music is as
excruciatingly difficult to adequately describe
as it is pleasurably satisfying to experience;
they are a self-contained zeitgeist. They are
Rane.
 Rane
is a five-piece band, half lunatics and half
maniacs. They are Alan (Fr. Noodles Devine),
Bowman (World's Best Great-Grandma), Dan (The
Euphoric One), Kurt (The Filthy Screwdriver),
and Bruce (Random Letters, Numbers, and Symbols).
They meld the sonic adventurousness of Radiohead,
the eclecticism of Super Furry Animals, the erudite
dynamics of Phish, the innovative approach to
the pop song of mid-era XTC's, the sophistication
of Steely Dan, the fearless structural complexity
of Sonic Youth, the musicality of King Crimson,
the atmospherics of Peter Gabriel, the percussion
of Paul Simon, and the ambient tendencies of
Berlin-era Bowie, all with an organic lyrical
intensity.
Rane
were dispelled from Mount Coltrane, and equaled
one half of its mass, hence their name. They
evolved out of base elements, with only their
moxie to guide them (God wasn't old enough to
help yet). For years, they were "One of
the Two or Three Greatest Microbe-Derived Bands
in the World," a viciously contended title.
In time, there developed a rival band: the Banalities,
fronted by the evil and vacuous Inventif B. Repht.
The Banalities were a noxious band clearly inferior
to Rane, but innocuously appealing to many, and
somehow eclipsed Rane's popularity many times
over. The Banalities are the antithesis of Rane:
they sound like every band before them, mindlessly
regurgitating their influences without any recognizable
singularity. Rane, disgusted by what Inventif
B. Repht and his growing contingent of disciples
represented, departed the known world, vowing
to destroy Inventif from beyond his influence.
They departed and were drawn North, secluding
themselves to an island they dubbed Tides. It
was here they would embody the spirit of independent
music.
 From
this island Rane write their own songs, record
them in their own digital studio, and release
them on their own record label. All the business
of the band is conducted by the band's members.
Anyone is welcome to visit Tides, and tape whatever
you may hear them play. This island is completely
self-sufficient, a manifestation of the autonomy
which is exemplified in their music. It is here
that they remain untarnished by our land, retaining
their dignity and singular vision. They have
released several albums from this island to our
world, including three separate albums simultaneously
in 2003. Now they reveal their latest work, Magnetic
North. From the placid assuredness of "What
It's For," to the shimmering alt.country
jangle of "The Shark," it is an album
brimming with masterful song writing and inventive
playing. The title track in particular is an
effortlessly catchy pop song with an uplifting
tempo, precise musicianship, and imaginative
structure. Magnetic North is a fully
realized, emotionally resonant album, imbued
with lucent imagery of life, love, and the freedom
of the sea. It delivers a profound statement
against the jejune, lifeless ethics of Inventif
B. Repht.
 Bowman's
sonic myriad, Alan's melodic elegance, Dan's
impeccably fluid basslines, Kurt's plethora of
percussive sounds, and Bruce's air-tight beats
are all weapons, employed with gusto to debilitate
Inventif B. Repht and his disciples. Inventif's
power weakens with every Rane album. Magnetic
North is a potent assault that further puts
him closer to destruction. Relentlessly Rane
charges forward, continuing to epitomize the
spirit of independent music, and always battling
and upstaging Inventif B. Repht from afar, with
as much force as if they were here among us.
– Joe
Mastronardi |
