Mew - And the Glass Handed Kites (2005)

1) Circuitry of the Wolf; 2) Chinaberry Tree; 3) Why Are You Looking Grave; 4) Fox Cub; 5) Apocalypso; 6) Special; 7) The Zookeeper’s Boy; 8) A Dark Design; 9) Saviours of Jazz Ballet (Fear Me, December); 10) An Envoy to the Open Fields; 11) Small Ambulance; 12) The Seething Rain Weeps for You (Uda Pruda); 13) White Lips Kissed; 14) Louise, Louisa

Increasing the quirkiness and the ambition, maybe a little too much.

Key tracks: "Apocalypso", "Special", "The Zookeeper's Boy"

I feel like people tag Mew with the “prog-” prefix a little too easily just because there’s been a few funny time signatures or sudden mid-song style switches here and there. On the other hand, And the Glass Handed Kites feels like a response to all the prog-pop buzz people were throwing in Mew’s way after Frengers had blown them up to international fame. You want prog-pop? Here you go, you have some prog-pop. You can have ALL OF IT.

Mew haven’t really switched their game here, per se. Their indie rock shenanigans still owe to both dream pop and shoegaze in equal amounts and they flick back and forth in the spectrum between muscular, loud rock and ethereal, delicate beauty effortlessly. There’s ambition and boldness, songs sounding like small galaxies, the surreal lyrics conjuring imagery that sounds otherwordly when sung by Jonas Bjerre’s falsetto. What’s changed is the delivery. And the Glass Handed Kites is a song sequence, a collection of chapters seamlessly segued into eachother. Chapters - not songs. Unlike most similar albums, And the Glass Handed Kites isn’t just a run of songs quickly mixed together, but this is a case where songs literally bleed into eachother - a track might have changed and you could never notice, or a song’s radically kicked into another gear and it’s a great surprise to find out it’s still the same song. It’s full of quirks, turns and twists. It’s actually really thrilling: the first few listens, and every time you return to the album after a long time, are genuinely exciting, a wild ride that just keeps going and fills you with awe. And the Glass Handed Kites puts every other segued album I’ve heard into shame.

The thrill does wear out, yes. And the Glass Handed Kites is so focused on its grandeur that digging into it deeper, you actually find a little less than what you expected. The song cycle is all that matters and the tracklist has been crafted with that in mind: short interludes, songs that bridge the gaps brilliantly but aren’t as developed or rewarding when listening to them out of context, extended ambient breaks added as outros to help with the segues. You’ll find a better number of more exhilerating songs on other Mew albums, songs that sound great in and out of their mother context - And the Glass Handed Kites lives by the long player code so devotedly that its pieces are definitely less than its whole. The latter half of the album suffers the most from this: the entire four-song stretch from “Saviours of Jazz Ballet” until “White Lips Kissed” is effectively really impressive fragments layered one after another to create a glorious run of pomp and triumph that crumbles apart completely if you ever find yourself listening to any of the songs on their own. If you’re an album listener like me, that’s great - it’s not too much of an issue - but definite trade-offs have been made between depth and surface continuity here and the more you dig into the album, the more it rears its head.

There’s still plenty of excellent material that can take scrutiny though, and in particular the first half presents another four-song stretch of note, only this time one that’s far more impressive. Putting it bluntly: the “Fox Cub” / “Apocalypso” / “Special” / “The Zookeeper’s Boy” sequence is not only the most impressive run in Mew’s catalogue, but one of the most phenomenal song stretches I’ve come across in general. The quiet “Fox Cub” serves as an unassuming intro before the steadily speeding drum beat begins to take shape and launches into space. The dark rush of “Apocalypso” blasts in with its metal-lite riffs and drum havoc, suddenly morphing into the sharp-stabbing groove of “Special”, the most straightforward song on the album and even it has a habit of freaking out and breaking down its four-to-the-floor rhythm unexpectedly across the verses. “Special” segues perfectly into the colossal “The Zookeeper’s Boy”, a larger than life and starry-eyed half ballad/half anthem that finishes the chapter with beautiful fireworks and towering triumph. They are all not only humongous and superb songs but they flow into each other so perfectly and awe-inspiringly. The concept, the execution and the craft combine gloriously: it’s where every single thing you want and expect from And the Glass Handed Kites comes on display.

Other cuts as well become familiar highlights soon - most notably “White Lips Kissed” which twitches the ballad drama dial even further and the elegantly swerving power pop nugget “Why Are You Looking Grave”. And the Glass Handed Kites is a really good album, really great even at places. In many ways it’s an essential Mew album and a general must-hear - if anything, it certainly drills down the band’s sound and ethos perfectly. On the other hand though, I only go back to it in bursts: a series of listens over a few days that fill me with awe and love, before slowly moving onto other albums (Mew or not) for a more consistent dose of excitement. And the Glass Handed Kites is, to repeat a simile, very much a musical thrill ride and like thrill rides in general, you go through it too many times in a row and it loses the wow factor. The curves and slopes become too familiar and the lulls become predictable. So, I wheel the album out a few times a year, get obsessed, fall in love all over again and then realise that beyond the “Fox Cub”-”Zookeeper” cycle, Mew’s best songwriting is found on their other albums. It’s an incredibly impressive record, nonetheless - filled with ambition and Mew’s magical touch.

Rating: 8/10