In its finer moments, Capsules manages to evoke the wistful, dreamy aesthetic that The Balustrade Ensemble is clearly making a great effort to convey. Unfortunately, the album often sounds like looped interludes from a Cocteau Twins album. Vocalist Wendy Allen’s wordless intonations seem a direct descendant of Elizabeth Fraser’s style boiled down to its most vague fundamentals.
“Glorianders” launches the album with a quartz-timing click beat. It’s a delicate, intricate movement that orbits endlessly around its fixed gears like the accompaniment to a miniature ballerina holding court over an elegant jewelry box: quite pretty but ultimately an imitation of the grander art. They make extensive use of the celesta, the mellotron, and other precious sounding devices, cloaking the arrangements in a gauzy atmosphere that makes the music feel distant, as if it’s being transmitted from another time. “Crushed Pears” features the distinct sound of a spinning film reel, as if to transport the listener to a silent film theater where the band’s music serves as the score.
The Balustrade Ensemble openly seeks to cultivate a fin de siècle aura but more accurately ends up with an ambiguous old-time sound. It’s dandified chamber music that speaks the language but lacks the grammar to give it much weight. The band has stated that they wish to be compelling but not difficult. Their pleasant songs succeed in the latter case, but overall seem more like a gilded curio than a compelling opus. Capsules is to be taken out of the cabinet every so often, dusted off, and enjoyed before being replaced among knickknacks.
– Michael Patrick Brady
The Balustrade Ensemble: www.myspace.com/drowningcalm
Dynamophone: www.dynamophone.com