I stumbled on to Gaint Claw's music totally by accident around the time that he released Mutant Glamour... I should probably back up a bit. Giant Claw is the exhaust valve through which visual artist and Orange Milk label co-founder Keith Rankin vents the steam off his brain in the form of experimental music. While he's been doing it in fits and starts since 2010, I first encountered his music in 2012 with his playful, synth-jazz record Mutant Glamour. It was a little smart for me at the time and I admit that I had no reference point for what I was hearing. So, in a state of confusion, I wander off into the wilderness of the internet to see if I could find anything similar. My stumbling eventually caused me to fall down the well of Dan Deacon's discography, which was a real blessing, so I guess I have Keith to thank for that.
I hadn't been keeping up with Giant Claw since the early '10s, and I only took a passing interest in 2014's Dark Web before checking out again. For whatever reason, though, at the start of 2021, I became fixated on a desire to go back to Mutant Glamour. I can barely explain why, other than the fact that the music I listen to these days is increasingly synth-based, and I figured that I had finally acquired the right context for it. I have to say that Mutant Glamour has aged beautifully, but what's more, by revisiting that album, I discovered that Keith had a new one. It's also great, but in a completely different way.
Mirror Guide comes to us after a period of reflection by Keith. He had been busy enough with his design that he had completely shelved Giant Claw for a couple of years. When he did return to the project, he had decided that his next album was going to aim for a more mainstream, pop orientation. Roughly translated: "Papa's going to make some dough!" Nothing wrong with that. It just didn't happen. Before it was finished, Keith apparently decided that the direction the project was going was all wrong. So he scrapped it and made Mirror Guide instead. This is probably one of the more abstract albums in Giant Claw's catalog and mostly consists of sounds recorded on a cello and a smattering of other orchestral instruments, and manipulated magnificently in post. The aim for the release was to cultivate sounds that triggered a flow of overwhelming emotions, and reignite the awe Keith felt when listening to recorded sounds when he was younger. Results might vary, but I'm giving him points for both style and execution here. He's definitely stuck the landing.
Opener "Earther" bounces, hiccups, and back-flips like a frog that's accidentally licked a psychedelic mushroom, wallowing in a nutrient-rich pool of cinematic runoff and detritus, and particle of which could be its own thematic score, but here is only presented in a measure or a half measure at a time before shifting focus to the next. "Mir-Cam Online" strains with a warm but peculiar affection that if I didn't know any better, I'd think it was actually trying to tell some kind of a love story (I may not actually know better, btw). The album takes a curious spill through moods of triumph and crushing defeat, before ending with an ambiguous cliffhanger on the thrilling raft of "Disworld" featuring a hushed performance by avant-garde vocalist NTsKi. "Until Mirror" is both wiser sounding and more mischievous than its siblings, a feat helped greatly by the calm and steady elocution of Tamar Kamin, and "Mirror Guide, pt.1" sounds like the soundtrack to an afternoon weather report slowly upping the ante and raising the sonic stakes until it resembles the theme to an obtuse spy-thriller. The whole release is as serene as it is startling, like a free fall with a plot twist.
It's corny, but I'm just going to come out and say it, Mirror Guide shattered my expectations.
You can get a copy of Mirror Guide here from Orange Milke Records.
