From the get-go, nothing here is as it seems. Davies obviously follows his muse, but who or what that muse is remains to be seen. "Synesthetic Watcher" begins with a simple riff -- nothing fancy. In fact, it's quite boring. However, just when you're ready to give up, you're treated to a squeaky falsetto "voice" and out space drums, followed by the arpeggiated synth that's developing the original motive. From there it's obvious why Davies checked "anything goes" on his list of instrumentation at MP3.com. "Echo Box" exploits distorted Biwa-esque sounds, FM synth bells, crunchy fatter-than-fat bass guitars and drones that bubble and reverese, then take over on melodic duties. Davies does IDM at its best on "Seabed Secret" and "Purple Circuit Board", with more of the same elclecticism, but a greater focus on synthetic drum programming. The most unnerving piece is the closer, "Toytown Underground". After cycling through a series of performances using metal "instruments" that distort, fade into reverb, hityou in the face and then melt away, Davies concludes with a stripped-down music-box line that's so cheery, you'll wonder when the Children of the Damned are coming for you.
Midwife for Black Nights is 35 minutes best enjoyed with headphones on, the better to enjoy its subtleties (although you may want to check under the bed before you listen). Throughout this torrent of weird sounds, oblong song forms and how-did-he-do-that recording tricks, there's a unifying fact: darkness. It's the type of thing you experience on a Bauhaus or Birthday Party disc -- an underlying tension that you can't quite define, though it definitely gives you the chills.
Midwife is refreshing in its complete disregard for convention and expectations, and eminently listenable to boot -- something that true innovation rarely achieves.
But there are exceptions. Like Neuron Nest's S. Davies, who has actually done quite a bit with the eight songs on this interesting album. Armed with Protools and a veritable truckload of samples, Davies has created an enjoyable, moody, oftentimes creepy album that combines elements of ambient, electronic, and industrial music.
"Seabed Secret" is a definite highlight on Midwife. Featuring a delicate piano melody, and some neat bass playing, it almost sounds like Fight Club-era Dust Brothers material. "Pandora's Keepers" meanwhile, is a funeral piece of dark electronica with some bizarre, creepy vocals.
Though Midwife is not perfect (care to explain "The Tin Fairy", Neuron?), there's some really good stuff to behold on this album - a lot more than you might expect, at least. So if you're into obscure, homemade electronic music, you can do no harm giving Neuron Nest a chance.
84%
With Midwife For Black Nights , Neuron Nest proposes to you to make a turning in Xieme dimension of which they have the keys. A little with the manner of David Vincent who loses himself on an unknown way, the listener arrives in a space deconstruit where time is distorted and breaks up into eight variegated stopovers.
Difficult to classify, these compositions ump without complex of an esthetics to the other. Here the guitars, low and batteries mix with the parasitic sounds. There, the glitches are metamorphosed in rates/rhythms and answer exotic percussions in a strange carnival between laughing and sadness.
Slipping of ambient glitch to the dark hip hop, of the electronic post-rock'n'roll to experimental joining these compostions propose during 35 minutes the exploration of a ludic production, introspective and full with emotions. Sometimes the melodies scintillate (toytown underground) and charm our ears as to make us fall down in childhood but never very a long time because the animal under the bed (or in the wall cupboard) does not like that it is forgotten. A music with drawers where many can find their happiness... If Scratch Pet Land decided to make of animal techno can be that that would resemble Neuron Nest.