Golden Retriever - Seer (2014) FLAC

Jonathan Sielaff and Matt Carlson of Golden Retriever look toward the cosmic and the karmic, favoring set-it-and-forget-it synth jams that seem ripped from 1970s Germany; they’re scientific and mechanical in their construction, but they still imbue their work with emotion. Perhaps because they come from free improv backgrounds, Golden Retriever’s early cassette and CD-R releases leaned toward steady-state, circuitous instrumental pieces rather than the dramatic engagement of their recent work. Seer, their second record for Thrill Jockey and third LP overall, seems particularly laser-guided in its looping and loping melodies. It continues the careful editing that they practiced on 2012’s Occupied with the Unspoken: synth and saxophone lines pop in and splatter the void, and tracks are given room to breathe and unfurl, but they’re never lackadaisical or laborious. Sielaff and Carlson may cop the aesthetics of Klaus Schulze, but on Seer they’re content working on a smaller canvas.

The duo’s increased discipline is most readily identifiable on the interlocking and overlapping instrumentation on “Flight Song”. Carlson sets up an asteroid field of pinging synth parts that Sielaff casually weaves through and around, embracing the reedy squeals of his instrument instead of obscuring them with a mountain of effects. On “Superposition”, Seer’s lengthy closer, the duo wrangle serious timbral diversity out of their creaky gear, as Sielaff’s processed sax peals make conversational counterpoint to Carlson’s crystalline atmospherics. Before Carlson launches into the sweeping arpeggiation that gives the song its dramatic momentum, it’s the most relaxed moment on the record, but even when the duo stretches out—on “Superposition” and “Sharp Stones”— it never feels like they’re padding time or wasting space. When Carlson slows down the tempo and Sielaff’s work becomes more protracted, these spacier segments set up the more propulsive sections.

Golden Retriever has carved a niche that’s not strictly indebted to post-Berlin School ambient or to the more organic work of new age composers but rather snags details from both aesthetics. It’s transportive stuff when it’s done well, and on Seer they’ve distilled each of the five tracks down to its basest parts, making each feel like a succinct and potent journey in its own right. Albums in this vein can seem like an argument for sprawl, but Seer makes a case that a wondrous interstellar trip can still be focused.