My Perfect Lightyear: "Mackabe Fontaigne"

Perhaps the only viable, sprawling post-rock act to emerge out of Metro Detroit in the last…infinity…years, My Perfect Lightyear operates as one might expect: nascently clawing away from Detroit. This isn’t fair, alright, because the band is technically from Rochester Hills, Michigan, which is one of the lesser known Rochesters, but just as full of itself, and Detroit isn’t actually a horrific cosmic void, just some sort of Petri dish that allows ICP to continue to thrive. Bassist Matt Walsh, drummer Mike Buratto, and guitarist Phil Nelson wallow in their environment, mortaring and dismantling fragile instrumental pieces that sound nervous and eager, guaranteeing reliable tension, cascades, and climax.

What makes these guys as endearing as their mock-emo name is how innocent their arrangements sound apart from such obvious forebears as Mogwai or Explosions in the Sky. Pulling the ole switcheroo, Nelson introduces the loping bass melody, a simple 6/8 hook that patiently opens and carries the whole, as innocuous as it is beautifully catchy, ringed in passages of Walsh’s pedaled guitars. Limp-wristed at first, Buratto’s percussion acquires density and fury before each definite song segment, overtly couching the listener in familiar, crashing territory, and then rushing headfirst into a dainty piano/bell coda. Despite the unusual dependence on bass—and despite the usual dependence on cymbals—“Mackabe Fontaigne” succeeds as many “Experimental/Indie” pieces do, rewarding patience with a young sense of confidence.