Helios - "Ayres"

Helios - The Obeisant Vine - Ayres (Type 2007)

Helios – Ayres / Type

So if it isn’t obvious enough, I have a bit of a crush on John Twells and Stefan Lewandowski’s Type Label. All of their releases share a similar aesthetic of mixing musical pleasantness with sound experimentation, easily two of my favorite characteristics within music. And most importantly, each of their artists stamp an individual fingerprint with their style; though they may all share a similar mindset, each album is completely idiosyncratic, from the looming acoustic doom of Svarte Greiner to the cheery sun-drenched pop of Mountaineer. One of the label’s earliest releases was from Boston-based multi-instrumentalist Keith Kenniff, who at the time was recording under the Goldmund moniker. His atmospheric piano-based compositions were no doubt instrumental in carving out Type’s stylistic niche, and since that release, Type005, he has further expanded and refined his musical palette. Now also recording under the Helios moniker, Kenniff is easing his way into an almost singer/songwriter format, but believe you me, the experimental ambient soundscapes he established as Goldmund are far from a lost aspect of his latest musical endeavors.

Practically raised on music, Kenniff has followed the path of most multi-dimensional musicians: joining band after band, each of different styles, and though not gaining any monetary success, learning each genre’s idiosyncratic touch. During his tenure studying percussion at the Berklee College of Music, he also took a keen interest in film soundtracks, further expanding his taste for mood-setting atmospheric music. A young but refined multi-instrumentalist, Kenniff began developing his own compositions, drawing heavily from his interests and concentrating on a sound similar to on-screen accompaniments: sparse, patient and filled with emotion. Along with establishing his minimal yet cinematic ambient alias Goldmund, the Helios moniker became an outlet for more textural ambitions. After a one-off release on Miami’s excellent Merck label, Kenniff moved his Helios project to Type where they had already released the initial Goldmund album, Corduroy Road. Now well established with an ever-growing fan-base, Kenniff preps his fourth full-length as Helios, Ayres, for the British imprint, and it’s perhaps his most realized release to date.

The biggest addition to the Helios sound with Ayres is the infusion of Kenniff’s vocals. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t just sing on top of his compositions, but rather utilizes his melodic coos as instruments themselves, sampling, looping and intertwining them within the layers of harmonious bliss already swimming around. Take the opening track for example, “A Rising Wind.” The song opens with melodically hollow percussive ticks paired with distant hums and hushed, wordless coos harmonizing just beneath the surface. The patient percussion expands with deeper reverberating thumps and delicately swelling string-like synths while Kenniff’s fragile voice sings within the whirlpool of pleasantly enveloping sounds. The music builds into a climactic multi-tracked vocal harmonization that drifts swiftly over over-modulating drum machines before ebbing back to the initial tide of vocal ambience. Think a collaboration between Sigur Ros, Grizzly Bear and Low with the Type aesthetic of experimentation.

Most of the album follows suit with Kenniff approaching the fractured, melodic and textural sound from different angles. The most successful of the all-too-short six tracks is “The Obeisant Vine,” a deeply moving dream-pop song. Kenniff portrays a great understanding of vocal prowess by not singing at emphatic levels, but teasing his hushed croon with wavering pitches. It is just one of those melodies that is so perfect that it must have been composed on piano first and later transposed to vocals. The accompanying drum machine march and swirling acoustic guitar and warm synth swells only further emphasize the brilliantly melodramatic mood. Kenniff’s equally intriguing cover of “In Heaven” rounds out the mini-album. Initially recorded by cult R&B crooner Peter Ivers for David Lynch’s classic film Eraserhead, Kenniff sounds as assured as ever with his voice front-and-center over a backdrop of harp-like percussion loops. The song is wonderfully immersed in a reverberating sea of melodic tension before disintegrating completely.

Clocking in at just over twenty-seven minutes, Ayres ends way too quickly, but also vastly excels in its pared down state. Kenniff’s music as Helios is much less meandering than earlier projects and refined into excellent five-minute dream-pop songs. But he never loses touch of ambiance and treats each track with obvious care and minute attention. While this is just a theory, it sounds as if Kenniff set out to craft songs that are as cinematic as the soundtrack music he is so heavily inspired by, but can tell a story without any visual accompaniment. If so, consider it a success, because Ayres is a moving and deeply sensuous album of patient, textural dream-pop.