RELEASED at the end of last month, the debut album from Derry solo artist Ryan Vail finds him experimenting with a variety of musical approaches including stripped-down electronica, minimal dance, wistful, piano and violin instrumentals and even spoken word poetry.
The PledgeMusic-funded For Every Silence follows on from a series of electronic EPs and Sea Legs, the highly atmospheric album from his eponymous project with singer-songwriter Ciaran Lavery.
Vail's debut LP proper is a similarly moody affair to the latter record, combining traditional instrumentation and human voices with samples and synthetic elements to create a series of contrasting yet oddly complementary tracks that sound like they could have been written for some imaginary film.
Indeed, For Every Silence is a concept album of sorts, inspired by the history of the vintage piano which features throughout the record. Apparently, it was made in 1927, when it was sent from England to Derry to become a fixture in his wife Katie's granny's home for the next 80 odd years.
The rich, warm sound of its gently tinkled ivories on the likes of the album opening 1927 (also featuring Belfast fiddler Rachael Boyd on violin) and quietly contemplative instrumental Invert – which finds Vail's playing accompanied by the soothing sounds of birdsong, flowing water and the creaking of his piano stool – adds an abundance of character to proceedings.
Unexpectedly, such vintage keyboard action somehow complements the soothing analogue synths and pulsing electronic beats of neighbouring songs such as Mirrors, Wounds and Faces.
The common denominator in the latter three tunes is Vail's hushed speak-sung vocals and a general air of introspection, though for the haunting Above The Whitewash, spoken word nu-gaze oddity I Play and mournful, slow-burning number A Strange Incident he enlists the help of guests Eoin 'Best Boy Grip / Wake America' O'Callaghan (whose angelic croon gets the multi-layered choral treatment to highly effective operatic end on the former) and Seattle visual artist/poet Hexxr, who lends her pleasing American twang to the latter pair of thematically linked musical musings.
Elsewhere, Never drops handclaps, groaning strings and fat sub-bass onto an itchy 4/4 beat with random sprinkles of piano and half-speed vocals to create a drowsy dancefloor experience as heard by someone ripped to the gills on codeine-laced cough syrup, while Mechanical Insides combines yet more contemplative piano tinkling with the soft clickety clack sound of the instrument's keys seemingly amplified to create an organic rhythm track.
The whole thing provides a pretty mesmeric, relaxing and imagination-fuelling listen that is ripe for repeated headphones listening. It's not every day you get to hear a genre-blurring record that features songs seemingly sung from the perspective of one of the instruments that was actually played on it.
Listen now at Soundcloud.com/ryan-vail and, if you like it, be advised that you can actually hear Ryan Vail recreating these songs live this very night in the heart of Belfast at the venue popularly referred to as The MAC Theatre, with support from the aforementioned Rachael Boyd and visuals courtesy of Guerilla Shout.
Will the piano be there too? There's only one way to find out.
:: Tickets £12 from TheMAClive.com.
