Opening song ‘Get to France’ is as sensual, as it is scary. A minimal, floating piano leads majestically, accompanied by evocative strings that give the feeling this was meant entirely for film. While any cinematic association with Mogwai previously may have inhibited the grandiose and bombastic, this is marvellously refrained, simplistic and delicate – a tone that ultimately captures the spirit of this new EP.
'Hound Of Winter' is a hazy, acoustic lament that again sees mournful piano keys and sweeping yet subtle strings float in the background. Layers of refined guitars quietly hack away, creating breathy, spacious accompaniment. Even the faint hooting of harmonica can be heard, giving a whole new sense of texture and insight to Mogwai. The intro in many ways is not too far away from a Neil Young composition.
As things proceed to ‘Drunk and Crazy’, things do indeed get a little crazy - thick, pulsating reams of electronics are thrust into the listener’s eardrums. The drums pound and merge into an industrial machine of a song. It’s frightening, tense and splendid. All of this suddenly stops as, again, the gorgeously arranged strings glide in. The two then concoct into a whirlwind of sonic variations and thrilling atmospherics both uplifting and chilling. At this point, it most closely resembles their Clint Mansell collaboration (scoring Darren Aronofsky’s The Fountain). Everything about this EP just seems to be screaming out for cinema.
Closer ‘Does This Always Happen’ ends the EP in a similar fashion to the way we entered: desolate piano keys tinker with unsettling results and the strings continue to tear their way through the songs core with surgical precision and ballerina-like grace.
For a band often pigeonholed into the tightly cramped space of "post-rock" they really are far more expansive outfit. They can be as sonically molesting as they can affecting, and this continual plunge into emotion is always a rewarding one.