Namelessnumberheadman

Namelessnumberheadman’s win in the 2002 Pitch Music Awards’ Best Dance/Electronic Act category was alternately apt and odd. Though unquestionably electronically informed (at its shows, nine keyboards line the floor of the stage amid a loosely woven tapestry of impossibly tangled cords), the trio’s airy compositions are all but dance-retardant. Programmed percussion and sampled loops, those staples of intelligent dance music, decorate its tunes. But NNHM never stays in one place long enough to establish a groove, its cascading soundwaves repeatedly drowning its delicate melodic constructions. Still, each song leaves behind gritty traces that provide ample material for another majestic hook, making its albums as coherent as the best DJ mix tapes.

NNHM’s latest disc expands exponentially on these established strengths. It opens with an acoustic emo mirage in which a gentle-voiced, sensitive strummer sings, Rest assured, my one true love. Then the group subtly adds synthesized atmosphere, complementary countermelodies and electronic enhancements until the tune swells to a fully fleshed orchestral masterpiece. Later, the band lets the bottom fall out of a track built around nimble riffs and xylophone taps, leaving the singer’s voice to hover in a haunting haze. It mesmerizes with spooky wind whistles, crescendos that elevate in intensity like a horn blast from a fast-approaching semi and increasingly assertive drum thumps, then breaks the spell with a simple bell chime or a single long-lingering note. Almost every song contains a pure pop payoff. What’s amazing are the artful, epic journeys the band takes to arrive at that point and the grace with which it fades away from each climax.