Sam And The Plants-The Eft (2009)

Genre: Indie, Lo-Fi, Folk, Experimental, GREAT
Myspace
Tracklist
01.untitled 01:49
02.cruckle 01:47
03.never or now 00:59
04.spider 00:58
05.andy and the mole 01:15
06.kawai kry 00:39
07.board snore 02:07
08.open cluster 00:33
09.story 01:29
10.number three 01:19
11.henbane beer 00:45
12.small riot 04:24
13.brave kuda 00:55
14.cremation 01:31
15.shadow 03:05
16.the sound is six 01:30
17.movement 01:23
18.with a snake 01:50
19.the eft 03:53
20.mammat 01:56
21.argyll minor 02:14
When rummaging through Sam And The Plants
7"s you're inevitably struck by how erratic and
ruptured with off-topic detours Sam McLoughlin's
songwriting is.

Of course, these seemingly diversionary forays
into sound collage, analogue prog and scatter-
brained disjointedness are as much the focal point
of his music as the more conventional 'song'
aspects of his work, and the very fact that within
the short-form constraints of his vinyl EPs he's
able to cram so many ideas into his recordings
is a startling attribute. Ported to a full-length setting,
this densely packed barrage becomes more of a
challenge for the listener, however the fragmented,
occasionally deranged sequencing isn't without one
or two more straight forward pieces: 'Small Riot' is
chiefly made up of Sam's lo-fi balladry, although the
surreal ninety second ditty is bookended by strange,
sampled sounds (dictaphone recordings of cockerels,
jangling cowbells et al) and grainy documents of
folksy melodies - these things seem to breeze in
and out of the mix throughout the album.

This notion that anything could happen at any given
moment is both Sam's most distinctive presentational
foible and his greatest enemy as a songwriter.
Just when he's onto a great idea, the sheer mutability
of the record's flow of ideas means he's already onto
something else. He's a right old tease. You might
consider listening to The Eft as being a little bit like
rooting through someone's messy attic: it's full of
strange, intriguing bric-a-brac, but enough time spent
wading through the record's more tangential moments
- the digressive treats buried beneath all that dusty
detritus - will reveal plenty of valuable nuggets.

Songs like 'Mammat', 'Never Or Now' and 'Cremation'
all portray Sam as a 'proper' songwriter, albeit one
unencumbered by the customary preoccupations
of that breed. The openness to all manner of avenues
for sonic exploration makes The Eft far more densely
constructed than its thirty-something minutes suggest
and there's much to be discovered over repeat listens.
Smashing.