Bipolaroid, E(I)ther Or (Surreal but Kind)

A quick Google search of the word “Bipolaroid” reveals at least one thing; reviewers love comparing Ben Glover to Syd Barrett. In defense of my fellow critics, Glover, Bipolaroid’s mastermind, does little to refute the claims on the first half of E(I)ther Or, the band’s latest release. The psychedelic zeal of opener “Day in the Life of a Raincloud,” awash with feedback, slide guitar, and a flurry of drums, immediately transports the listener to 1968 with a dark, trippy romp that would make even Tim Leary wig out.

The album’s lyrics are also steeped in late 1960s counterculture. While these words may seem dated in today’s iPod era, Glover evokes the very best of psychedelia with his warped guitars, engulfing synths, and bass lines that build to emotional crescendos. Unfortunately, with melodies often obscured by the noise and borderline atonal vocals, he also displays some of the worst. In a genre that was always more about sonic exploration than a catchy tune, Bipolaroid sticks to the playbook.

The trip slows down near the album’s halfway point with “Hallelujah,” a yearning, lonesome highway country ballad. It is the moment when the door cracks and fresh air begins to sneak into the hazy, smoky room that Glover has built around the listener. From then on, the music gets brighter and Glover finds his melodic voice. This shift in feel is most evident on the instrumental “the Golden Era.” Given the context, one would expect a track with that title to be a jamming psychedelic freak-out, but Glover reveals his inner Pete Townshend with a classical breakdown and crisp, punchy guitars that make the song sound like a lost Tommy outtake. The refreshing track, along with the rest of E(I)ther Or, flaunts Glover’s savvy sound crafting skills and proves that The Piper at the Gates of Dawn isn’t the only record in his collection.