Jane in Space has released a new Self-Titled album.
It’s hard for a band whose music is surrounded by a mechanized sound to be completely relatable. But the NYC industrial/electronic rock trio, Jane in Space’s deliberately machinery-based new Self-Titled album is able to circumspect this obstacle with startling ease.
In their Self-Titled release, Jane in Space, whose members consist of Tom Vickers (vocals), Josh Stillman (bass) and Jesse Jensen (electronics, guitar, keys) channels their rock sensibilities into an album that cohesively ties in an industrial ambiance with electronic key layers. The entire album dares viewers into exploring the depths of the band’s nurtured sound, as if to say that music has a way of alleviating the social pressures and destructibility that may come from a world dependent on electronics.
“Say Something” right from the start possesses a mechanical, industrial layer and the listlessness of the Vicker’s vocals triggers a retrospective nuance straight from the '80s and '90s. This may be coming from Vicker’s experience as an actor and voice-over artist and inspired from the melodic hooks and songwriting from the '90s Britpop he grew up listening to. The reverb to the song makes it feel like there is a stranger in a unknown land trying to adjust to the unfamiliar setting. But the fusion of funk with rock, which Stillman supplies with his bass and electronics, slowly relinquishes listeners from this lonesome hold and the track gently gains more traction from there on.
In “Dehydrated,” the crisp way Vicker’s vocals vies for your attention over the electronic sounds prevents the track from further alienating viewers. The rough blipping and blaring of inanimate objects oftentimes makes the track seem robotic. Surprisingly, the rest of the song flows really well. Listeners really get to see the sunken landscape of being without water. This is described very well in the sound, in an almost musically inclined personification fashion.
“Jane3” is offset by leaving out the vocals and features the shooting and flaring sounds of blaring strobes. The weightiness of the track is the description through the music, the wearing thin of not just metal erosion but also mental erosion as well.
In “Dizzy Head,” this dreamy track numerates moodily over guitar strings. The emotionally wrought song gradually dissipates into a more removed sound with the neutrally placed mechanized-resounding instruments taking full reign.
“Weightlessness” also produces an industrial type composition that is counter-balanced by the singing. The vocals conjure up a moment in time with the track giving off an ‘80s feel.
“Helsinki” has dueling guitar riffs that simultaneously fissures to a standing halt next to the machine-driven instruments that dilutes the sounds of guitar strings. The mechanical sounds dull to a point of no return and then seems to drag on.
Jane in Space has weaved together a thoughtful album that is an interconnected web of something dark, dusky and dreamy. Yet the question remains: does the music feel alive? In tracks like “Dizzy Head,” where the remunerating over guitar strings does not pull away from the distant resonances, it provokes listeners to question whether a group solely based upon a mechanized sound can manifest something that breathes?
Although Jane in Space is all caught up in the moment and analogy of the band name, there is little to no mentions of anything galactic. With just the dream world to center the group, this freezes up the development of a more innovative sound.