When psychedelia works hard, it often manifests into something fantastic, euphoric and all-encompassing. The KVB are an example of a pair that demonstrate exquisite work ethic within their music. Having initially been the brainchild of Nicholas Wood, the Southampton-based visionary, experiments were undertaken with hints of Krautrock, post-punk and electronica, thus bringing about a sound that took as much from the Mancunian 80s scene, Joy Division, New Order and the gang, and tacked it in with its motorik counterparts, Kraftwork, Neu! and Suicide. Since the formation in 2010, Wood and his partner in crime, Kat Day, have released four albums amongst numerous EPs and tapes, along with a hectic relocation to Berlin that dragged the sound further into electronic, visual directions. The sparse sound that The KVB generate in general has always run along post-apocalyptic themes and now, Portishead’s Geoff Barrow is in charge of the reigns, flipping a cinematic switch onto affairs. Nicholas Wood comments on this album’s theme, dragging it from the depths of previous nihilism to the high stakes of isolated love, "It's about longing to be with someone and getting lost in a world that you create together."

The surge of psychedelic music across Britain over the last couple of years forces new musicians to consciously find a home in their particular sound, carefully edging across the thin ice of psychedelia. You only need to mention the word psychedelic nowadays and Topshop will pop up with their new paisley dress, or River Island will churn out a black turtle neck for the gentlemen. The issue with it as a genre is the commodification of the image associated with it – this is from light shows, to a drug culture and ultimately an overall lust to appear slightly left field of the norm without standing out too much. With the emergence of psychedelic festivals all over the country, you only need to swing a dead cat to 26 psychedelic bands dressed head to toe in black, pummelling a little tremolo and fuzz through vintage 60s amplifiers. So where do bands like The KVB fit into the bracket? To call them psychedelic is extremely condescending, undermining their exquisite ambient, electronic influence that takes as much from Death In Vegas and Ulrich Schnauss as it does guitar music. However, where the psychedelia blends comes into the fray is with the down-tempo groove, the lethargic motorik drum and the reverberated, droning guitar – an interesting affair by all measures, however, how far can you go with this dynamic?

Album opener ‘White Walls’ brings glimmers of opening synth stutters, it acts like a true entrance song to film credits, it hovers lightly above a dark, glooming organ sound. You can’t help but feel that this is the start of a story, what The KVB are lining up for you here is something that is not going to be a quick-fix-then-home job, it’s a saga. It could fit along the barren landscapes of Fritz Lang’s Metropolis and appear completely at peace, however what it wisely does is embed all the elements of a song that are necessary to maintaining melody.

Much like musicians of a similar ethos, such as The Black Ryder, The Vacant Lots and Helicon, visuals encompass the music acting as either a scaffolding or accomplice depending on the quality of the music. It seems that the post-industrial setting of Berlin has had a positive influence on the duo, a sound that mirrors the jaunting post-punk undercurrent, the brashness of the motorik beat and tremolo of the synthesiser. Take the lead single from Of Desire, ‘In Deep’ and you can gauge an understanding of where I’m coming from – the guitars bellow over the top of a steady, dominating beat, much in the fashion of The Jesus and Mary Chain’s Psychocandy years. The video takes the music blow for blow, sitting stark images of a grey, gaunt winterland on top of it, equivocating an adorned concept piece.

Elsewhere, tracks such as ‘Night Games’ and ‘Silent Wave’ hark to grounds operated by the likes of Hookworms, Wooden Shjips and A Place To Bury Strangers. Slow, throbbing synth rumbles on top, flipping the general canvas for rhythm sections, what this generates is a surface level beat that strikes your somewhere in the chest. The pact that these tracks sign as they go down on an LP is that they need to, above anything else, generate some hook early on, or some direction and unfortunately, what The KVB miss here slightly is that exact thing. Asides from general build ups and break downs, there doesn’t seem to be much movement to the songs. Scattered vocals surge over the top through some mind warp of reverb that seems to consist entirely of echo and rather than falling into a song pattern, you get the feeling these tracks just become a bit self-righteous, a bit too heavy on the shoegaze. Now, this is not to say they won’t be good in a live setting. You can picture the mass Churchill car insurance advert that would accompany this, 200 odd heads, bobbing away in unison; similarly, it must be remembered that Of Desire is to be listened to from start to finish, it paints a picture, so perseverance is key.

My big question with The KVB comes down to the self-indulgence and the drawing of a line between the actual cinematic, OST style song and the song made for LP. It’s a brave and exceptionally interesting concept and at times, it is something they can pull off. With tracks in the centrefold and latter part of the album, those such as ‘Awake’, ‘Never Enough’ and ‘Second Encounter’, you begin to get it. They have taken the desolation and ice of the visuals and perfectly accompanied it with melody and groove. It comes across strongly and harks back to their earlier material as a group, the composition of music within Immaterial Visions or Always Then, elsewhere though, Of Desire leans too heavily on atmospheric, cinematic themes that just don’t quite prove their worth. Similarly to Black Rebel Motorcycle Club’s Effects of 333, an album that proved too ambitious and too left field, perhaps Of Desire leans too heavily on trying to be something that they aren’t full comfortable with playing yet. It is a stab that doesn’t quite cause much of a puncture, unfortunately.

The KVB have produced something here that won’t go down in history as such, it knocks at the door of its purpose and it shows its experimental flair, however, it tries too hard and through doing so, it misses out key elements of musicianship. Songs that attempt to be cinematic conflict so harshly against those with melody, they are too passé and ultimately serve for nothing but tea breaks between the rest of the music. What is necessary is the euphoric, post-punk bliss that shows a furthered direction of their previous album but incorporates the best parts rather than aiming for sparsity and ending up with little. Contrary to my general point here, it is important to take into account the visual element of such a group, in particular this is something that will resonate in a live setting so when they next play it will be worth your time to get down and see how it expands live. Much like Fat White Family, Hookworms and a multitude of other bands, it often takes a live setting to get the gist of the target and purpose.
Tom Churchill

Website: thekvb.co.uk
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