A Mage Shy of Magic

Although the Philadelphia based group has expanded their ways since the critically acclaimed self titled debut in 2004, size isn’t always a good thing.  While riddled with arguably more talent than before, most of their second effort, aptly titled II contains far more luscious gaps of tranquility that could have easily been aided with direction and discipline.  There are spectacular musical interludes that show how far the band has matured in two years along with their growth but often times play longer than even the most dedicated musician can attain.  In songs like ‘Dead Queen’ the guitar fortitudes alongside the complimentary gentile voice of Meg Bard resulting in a idle if not grand opener.  ‘Mansfield and Cyclops’ demonstrate their ability to stand above the stagnant smoke dancing in the air into a stronger electric guitar driven rock atmosphere and for the first time complimenting the lack of vocals with pure mechanic harmony.  While ‘Dead King’ proves the harmonious ways of the trio vocally when the band takes a backseat to the choral telling, it simply proves the omissions of control.  So thus, the album teeters along the My Morning Jacket riff with a flair of Sigur Ros air all the while leaving a sense of lost composure and leading to eventual tedium.  Songs like ‘Children of Stone’ limp along a tired feedback laced surface to only succeed in proving their ability to keep a harmonic tone, but not one’s interest.  In the end, the Espers do succeed in their ability to dangerously skip across a field of sharp bladed grass through their music.  It is tranquil and dark – atmospheric yet trite with larger-than-life acoustic, cello, jazz bass, and drumkits that simply fill a psych improvisation void and are oftentimes saved by the vocal vocation of Baird, Espvall, and Weeks.   They took an immense chance with their follow up to the rather traditional and safe debut.  And while it pays off in maturity, it lacks devotion and containment.