If grey clouds could play guitar, they would create an album similar to The Vallum: gradual, plodding, in no hurry and with no destination. The instrumental album mainly features slow, reverberating acoustic-sounding guitar, sprinkled with electric piano and organ. Several overcast soundscapes interject like interludes (with mixed results) but the focus is mainly on the offerings of guitar melody fragments and insinuations.
While the music is beautiful and well-recorded, I couldn’t help but feel like there was a concept or idea behind it all that I was missing. The liner notes talk of a visit to an ancient church, St Blane's Chapel. The music is intended to reflect the feeling of the ancient monastery. Maybe the concept is just serenity, and I’m missing it by looking too hard.
It’s just guitar, after all. And beautiful guitar at that. Songs like “Pools”, “Spiral” and the title track “The Vallum” are long, melodic guitar lines with the occasional organ or electric piano. They invite you to come on in, have a seat, stay a while. These tracks are beautiful and expressive. I enjoyed the clean sound and laid-back pacing, suited for quiet strolls in misty hills.
Several of the songs disregard arrangement entirely, as well as instrumentation. Tracks like “Ave/Joe” and “Bridegroom Of Snow” are made of mechanical hums and samples of windstorms. The abrasive dissonant notes in “Witch” are very out of place, again making me wonder what conceptual idea lead to the song’s inclusion. It takes away from the beauty of the rest of the album.
Fortunately it’s like a glitch in an otherwise well-oiled machine. It’s redeemed by songs like “A House For Dogs”, a combination of slow background waves of sound beneath eloquent guitar riffs. You’re back under calm grey skies, watching the wind take form into sound. Enjoy the relaxed ride, from the opening guitar pluck until the mechanical loop of “Lowering (Echo)” becomes and muted hum for the last minute, until the final metallic drop.