Siddal

Mystery and the Sea (Bedazzled)
by Jamie Kiffel

If it is possible to exist within a zone, Siddal is zoned way out. Spacy, echoing bass and repeating, sonar-like bleeps make one wonder if the small appliances are trying to communicate again. In lieu of a live rhythm section, guitarist/programmer Richard Brinkley concocts synthesized rig-ups with precisely identifiable personalities. Tribal rhythms, aluminum-tongued electronica and even a haunted, minor-keyed waltz evoke a sharp spectrum of color-coded wires. Unfortunately, the kodachromatically differentiated selves drawn up by Brinkley’s musicianship leaves vocalist Elaine Winters spinning alone on her own thin, misty cloud of organic human voice. Brinkley spins bright recording loops around Winters’ thin, lost whispers. Winters seems not to care what her words are, as they are virtually indecipherable and not more than weak, Björk-like mewling. The only song that accidentally complements Winters’ tattered tone is “Oil Spills,” a nearly Gothic ebb and flow of sad chords. Beyond this, Winters cannot match the energy of her pre-recorded back-up, and is as effective in communicating feeling as a sigh in a wind tunnel. Consider salvaging this with the help of your Karaoke machine.
(www.siddal.com)