Graded on a Curve: Noveller, Glacial Glow, and No Dreams

Roughly a year ago Sarah Lipstate, a versatile Brooklyn-based guitarist who records solo as Noveller, made substantial headway with the release of Fantastic Planet, her seventh album and first for Fire Records. Her new label has chosen to begin 2016 with a bang by reissuing a pair of key Noveller LPs to a wider audience; 2011’s Glacial Glow and 2013’s No Dreams provide valuable insight into the growth of Lipstate’s experimental prowess, and both are obtainable on vinyl, CD, and digital January 8.

Sarah Lipstate has chalked up extensive credits as a band member (One Umbrella, Parts & Labor, and briefly in Wesley Eisold’s Cold Cave venture) and in collaboration (Carla Bozulich of Geraldine Fibbers, David Wm. Sims of Jesus Lizard and Scratch Acid, Canada’s thisquietarmy, Glen Kotche of Wilco, and the guitar ensembles of Ben Frost, Rhys Chatham, and Glen Branca), but her most enduring project has been Noveller; now over a decade old, in addition to a copious stream of full-lengths (two splits and a collab raise the total to ten) there are a handful of CDRs, cassettes, and even a 7-inch.

A whole heap of this output is available digitally via Bandcamp, but Fire’s reissue of Glacial Glow and No Dreams affords those only recently introduced to Lipstate the opportunity to procure vinyl editions of Fantastic Planet’s direct antecedents; Glacial Glow was previously given a 500 copy pressing by Weird Forest and No Dreams a multi-colored run of 400 through Taiga (the CD was issued on Important).

The two records essay significant developments in her journey into sound-sculpture sans vocals, so their reemergence as physical product is warranted, especially as each wields distinctive moments. Indeed, Glacial Glow wastes no time in underscoring Lipstate’s instrumental abilities as the tidy opener “Entering” combines tuneful fingerpicking, bass-like bottom and edgy ambiance hanging on the precipice of shrill as it ripples and swirls to conclusion.

The nearly six-minute “Glacial Wave” is a decidedly Fripp and Eno-ish proposition (in this case nearer to Evening Star than No Pussyfooting) but with enough restraint and melodic resonance to avoid registering as a blatant stylistic pilfer. “Blue” is not as easily tagged; combining drifting and darting elements with an unflagging electric warning signal-like pulse, the track is mildly reminiscent of the experimentation that hovered on the fringes of the ‘80s underground.

As her associates include Lee Ranaldo, Jim Thirlwell, and Branca, this is hardly a surprising circumstance. So far all this might ring familiar to ears conversant with Fantastic Planet, and to be sure one of Noveller’s strengths is focus, frankly a prized attribute in the experimental milieu. Alongside the Fripp/Eno facets and tendrils of ‘80s noise rock there’s a recurring cinematic motif; Lipstate is both a soundtrack contributor (The Skeleton Twins) and filmmaker, and her movies occasionally accompany Noveller performances. The chilly space futurism of “Resolutions” closes Glacial Glow’s first side.

The flip spreads out and nicely incorporates celestial undertones at the start, Noveller surely capable of beauty moves as “Alone Stars” leans toward the mysterious and leads into the glistening “Tuesday Before Poland.” The early portion of “Waxwing” suggests colossal cellos, though the overriding tactic is cyclical and nods to found sound- audio collage; this environment persists in “Ends,” the disc’s gentle, pretty finale.

Glacial Glow’s main limitation is essentially one of design rather than any sort of faltering in execution; overall, the impact lessens as the album’s second side becomes a more ambient affair. Of course, when one is disposed to undergoing a meditatively unwinding instrumental trip, the LP’s contents should hit the spot quite splendidly.

No Dreams begins in a similar fashion to its predecessor, with “Fighting Sleep”’s duration totaling less than two minutes. And yet the effect is different as the swells of distortion, peals of feedback, and burbles of electronics offer a scenario definitely redolent of the darkwave subgenre. This shouldn’t seem unusual; as listed above, Lipstate was momentarily part of the synth/wave outfit Cold Cave.

“Mannahatta” blends the lingering darkness with her aforementioned soundtrack tendency and even with a NYC-centric title inspires visions of floating down a hazy river on a rickety raft en route to a possibly disastrous outcome. In a pleasant twist, it later detours from the mounting sense of dread; in its place is tranquility and even wonderment.

Experimentalism can succumb to predictability as easy as any garage band, but Lipstate has little problem transcending this situation, No Dreams’ title track methodically building to an achy, heart-string tugging emotional crescendo that’s simply waiting for an enterprising director to maximize its potential; it’s an achievement all the more impressive in its lack of syllables to do the heavy-lifting of sentiment.

“Purchase” ends side one with gradually unfolding ambient drift, the atmosphere injected with rising intensity soon enough through cascades of ethereal guitar and submerged mechanical flutter. While “Mannahatta” reached nine minutes and “No Dreams” and “Purchase” broke five and six respectively, “Gathering the Elements” commences side two a tad more succinctly, its airy fragility evolving into a proggy finish.

“Rue De Montmorency” is a study in precisely controlled suspense; as it plays, it’s not a bit hard to imagine someone breaking into a building or cracking a safe. The lengthier “The Fright” follows, and while there are qualities supporting a horror connection, the music smartly avoids cliché, indulging in neither tired jump-scare outbursts nor overwrought mood-milking. In truth, the terse “Outro” is more palpably eerie, ending No Dreams with a note of intrigue.

Around this time last year I concluded that Fantastic Planet was Noveller’s best work yet, and upon consideration I’ll stand by the claim; Lipstate’s newest LP carries forward the stronger aspects of her prior two efforts and in so doing twines the range of Glacial Glow and the depth of No Dreams. But after prolonged exposure to these discs it is clear the qualitative distance is actually fairly small and in the case of the latter miniscule.

A fresher verdict is that since the turn of the decade Lipstate’s been on a roll. Fantastic Planet may be the apex of her recent productivity but Glacial Glow and No Dreams are hardly less necessary; instead, they complete the picture very well.

GLACIAL GLOW:
B+

NO DREAMS:
A-

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