Fifths of Seven – Spry from Bitter Anise Folds

Fifths of Seven was an instrumental string/piano/accordion-based trio out of Montreal, Canada, composed of Spencer Krug (Wolf Parade, Sunset Rubdown, Swan Lake, and Frog Eyes), Beckie Foon (A Silver Mt. Zion, Set Fire to Flames, and Esmerine), and Rachel Levine (Cakelk). I say was, because their MySpace page has not been updated since 2007. Spry from Bitter Anise Folds is the kind of album that will get you through one of those rainy winter days, when the melancholy and/or ennui begins to take hold of your spirit.

1) Rosa Centifolia – 5:33
2) Sweet Grace for Devious – 5:53
3) Out from Behind the Rigid Bellows – 6:49
4) Waiting – 2:58
5) Coeur, Arteries and Veins – 4:58
6) Echoes from a Wandered Path – 5:47
7) For You Alone in the Smoldering City – 9:42
8) Bless Our Wandering Dreamers – 4:37

PitchFork.com review by Matthew Murphy, 29 June 2005:

As you might suspect from a Montreal band issuing a record with an unwieldy title, Spry From Bitter Anise Folds is the work of another addition to the extended Constellation family of wayward instrumentalists. Providing the shortest ancestral link is cellist Beckie Foon, who has played with A Silver Mt. Zion and Set Fire to Flames, with pianist Spencer Krug (Wolf Parade, Sunset Rubdown, Frog Eyes) and mandolin player Rachel Levine (Cakelk) connected by slim degrees of separation as well. And though they utilize familiar ingredients, the trio’s rigorous, European folk-inflected chamber music manages to sound quite distinct from anything else in their musical genealogy, resulting in this exquisite, understated pearl of a debut.

Given the high activity rate of all three group members– Krug in particular is having himself one hell of a busy year– their collaboration as Fifths of Seven risks seeming an afterthought or mere side project trifle, but there is no evidence on these eight collected pieces that anyone’s talents have been spread too thin. Throughout the album the three each play with an intuitive delicacy that suggests many hours together in the rehearsal suite, with Levine’s mandolin providing an earthy, vaguely Mediterranean air to dynamic compositions that can recall the small-ensemble works of Erik Satie, Gabriel Fauré, or contemporary acts like Rachel’s.

On many of their best tracks here, such as the opening “Rosa Centrifolia” or the stately “Echoes From a Wandered Path”, the music functions without a true center, as each instrument moves continually and transparently from foreground to rear without ever breaking stride. Witness also Foon’s deft, sonorous playing on “Sweet Grace For Devious”, as she glides in and around her cello’s upper registers, sharing melodic duties with Krug’s austere piano. For his part, Krug here appears to betray a preference for detuned upright pianos, as evidenced by his solo turn on “Waiting”, which sounds as though it could’ve been performed on some old tack in an empty VFW hall.

For “Out From Behind the Rigid Bellows”, Krug swaps piano for accordion, the three musicians conjuring the mesmeric groans of a ghost ship’s riggings as it sails from one exotic port of call to the next, while on the closing “Bless Our Wandering Dreamers” they combine to join into impressively robust drones, distant strains of mandolin and cello hovering about the edges like the rapidly fading memory of a dream upon waking. Of all the tracks on the album, it’s this final cut that most audibly contains evidence of improvisation, suggesting bold new possibilities for future Fifths of Seven projects, as hopefully the three musicians find time to become even further comfortable in each other’s creative company.

PopMatters.com review, “The Soundtrack of Wartime Civilians”, by Kenneth Yu — 12 December 2005:

Fifths of Seven’s debut Spry from Bitter Anise Folds is all about war. Not the heat of the battlefield, mind you, but the immediate impact of the raging conflicts fought on it and the subsequent tragic aftermath. It is an audio archive, chronicling the lives of the civilian rather than the soldier — loss, fear, grief and all.

Spry From Bitter Anise Folds is the work of another addition to the extended Constellation family of eccentric instrumentalists. These illustrious members include cellist Beckie Foon, who has played with A Silver Mt. Zion and Set Fire to Flames, pianist Spencer Krug (Wolf Parade, Sunset Rubdown, Frog Eyes) and mandolin player Rachel Levine (Cakelk).

As fitting their instruments, the album is essentially a European chamber instrumental record. And yet, perhaps as a testament to their indie roots, Fifths of Seven are more Dirty Three rather than Debussy. Their playing is tinged with a post-rock sensibility, every stroke and vibrato purposed to create atmospherics of epic proportions. It’s bloodthirsty classical music reflecting the tormented state of wartime civilian psyches.

In their opener “Rosa Centifolia”, the opening sequence is not unlike the Christmas carol “It Came upon the Midnight Clear”. Unfortunately, it is less canticle and more dirge, minor chorded melancholy washing out any traces of hope. “Peace on the earth, good will to men, from heaven’s all-gracious King”, the lyrics say? To the ones who have lost loved ones in battle, these are not words of comfort but belittling retorts. They are Right Words from a Right Answer Society that have lost the facade of optimism that they have worn all along.

The song unveils a sobering thought — funerals do happen at Christmastime.

Another highlight is “For You Alone in the Smoldering City”. A rather self-explanatory title, the scene that is aurally painted is a sordid one. It is seemingly the story of the Sole Survivor, the one who has enduring the firefights and massacres of the night before, the witness of death and destruction that was not destined to be his portion yet. Charred buildings to the left, torched bodies to the right, the fierce tenacity of yesterday is replaced by the resigned sadness of losing families, friends and home.

This is an ode to the ones left behind.

But with any effort with such an intense air of despair, an obligatory sliver of hope peeks through the presence of thick grey clouds in the final track “Bless Our Wandering Dreamers”. Relatively cheery sequences are finally released for the benefit of hungry ears, tortured by an almost-relentless attack of acute sadness. The grim reaper and the infant ambles hand-in-hand, because death always leads to new life.

There is still hope, little ‘uns. There is always hope.

Bless our wandering dreamers, indeed.

Spry from Bitter Anise Folds is the soundtrack of not just the two World Wars, but a reflection of our ongoing War on Terror. And sadly, it seems that Fifths of Seven’s mournful tones will refuse to fade away for a long, long time to come.