A lot of times you have some sort of an idea of what you’re getting yourself into when you plan on listening to a particular artist.. However, with Plumerai it is the equivalent to walking in the dark. That is until you here the first song. Apparently it’s true that once you’ve heard one you’ve heard them all. But that isn’t necessarily a bad thing if the artist offers a unique and interesting sound, as Plumerai does. But, it can test your patience and interest.
A dark and brooding album, Plumerai“Without Number” is a slow and numbing trip to the dark recesses of the mind. Many of the songs offer a wide atmospheric touch with linear, guitar delay and tight drums. The prime suspect in of this combination is the unsettling “Blues & Greens”. With its weird accordion break-down and dark sonic dream-scape, “Blues & Greens” is the apex of the Donnie Darko-esque vibe that this album carries with it and that distinguishes Plumerai from today’s other acts. A more catchy number and probably the most memorable track here is the ringing “Iris”. Martin Newman offers a simple melody that the rest of the band ride on and help expand, showing their ability to stretch out something from next to nothing. There aren’t any big hooks on this album and this track is as close as it gets to that. Instead it is a more moody and personal listen. Because of this, many of the songs tend to blend together and sound alike. The instrumental “Sin El Lagarto”, however, is a much welcomed change of pace and is the only real up-beat song here. It has a swirling, tango rock feel and moves at about twice the speed of the rest of the album. Whether it was intentional or not, “Illuminata” is straight from James Bond and there is absolutely no way anyone who listens to it and has ever watched a 007 film could possibly disagree.
Worth noting is the tag on of the two recent singles released by Pulmerai. The first, titled “Empty Graves” is a promising effort that has Plumerai taking their signature sound, minus much of the lurking and gloomy quality, and adding a more pop/rock feel that makes it much more accessible. “Strike” is more like what is heard here on “Without Number” and is another foray into the engulfing abyss of simple and repetitive melodies that build up into a strong finish.
On vocal duties is Elizabeth Ezell, and thanks to her shadowy presence she is the perfect match for the music itself and has a lot to do with the haunting quality of “Without Number”. Her aching and sensitive voice sounds as though it is ready to break, helping add real frail emotion. If Plumerai is trying to alienate and unsettle their listeners though, they achieve that on the disturbing “Kill My Way Outta Here”. The repeated line of “I’m going to kill” matched with Ezell’s innocent yet creeping voice is the darkest and strangest that “Without Number” gets. Because of this and because the lyrics can be hard to distinguish from one another, it can be hard to relate to much of the songwriting. This is one of the causes of the songs sounding too much like more times than not. There aren’t many outstanding vocal melodies that stop this from happening and it can be costly.
“Without Number” isn’t the type of album you’ll really want to blast or make known that you’re listening to it. While that might sound like the ultimate seal of a negative review, it speaks to the extremely private and intimate attention that it demands from its listeners. This album is meant to be a personal listen and it is clear that Plumerai achieves that. Perhaps Plumerai intends on having “Without Number” to be listened to with the lights out, with nothing more than their sonic presence and your deepest thoughts.
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