The true test of a songwriter or band is to have the ability to create a song that can stand on it’s own when stripped down to its barest essentials. Both Plumerai and The Brother Kite are known for dressing their songs up in effects, creating comparisons to Stereolab, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and modern day shoegaze. But on this split single, limited to 500, these 2 artists take away all excess and craft some haunting music. The A side, “Vacant Eyes”, is given over to Plumerai, led by vocalist Elizabeth Ezell. Sounding like a subdued Karen O, her words sound as though they are slowly and painfully being pulled from her. For the majority of the song she is backed by simple acoustic guitar until her melody grows stronger, swelling to a climax in violas and cymbal crashes. It’s like taking a trip down the candlelit hallway of a haunted house. Plumerai create a tension between uncertainty and yearning and do it quite well. If Mark Kozelek decided to do a Simon & Garfunkel cover it would come off sounding like The Brother Kite’s contribution “We Can Never Be Friends.” This is meant to be a compliment. There’s surely a sense of longing and desperation on this brief 2 guitar & vocals song with its down strummed acoustic and scant assistance of some carefully chosen accompaniment. The vocal melody starts to soar but quickly chooses to land instead, denying the feeling of wistfulness you expect. It’s a beauty of a song; simple, short, and inviting. If a power surge were to ever strike New England Plumerai & The Brother Kite would do just fine. By stepping away from the effects and fuzz pedals both bands are more than capable of creating somber and touching music “unplugged.“ -Matthew Smith www.adequacy.net

Plumerai / the Brother Kite ‘split’ (Darushka-4). And here’s a rather divine split release from across the pond that’s more than worth its weight in gold. Pressed on what can only be described as transparent aquamarine vinyl this daintily drilled seven inch slab of wax is simply carved and encased in alluringly essential ear gear. Featuring the combined talents of two of New England’s premier dream pop ensembles both found here stripped to the bone to the barest of whispers and acoustically framed. First up Plumerai a Massachusetts based quartet led from the fore by the enchanting vocal caress of one Elizabeth Ezell, to date they’ve eked out a brace of full lengths (both sadly dipping below our usually well trained radar) with the latest for the Silber imprint ’without number’ attracting a fair degree of critical acclaim and swooning among the knowing underground cognoscenti. ’vacant eyes’ is an adorably affectionate aural apparition, so tender and slight it delights and destroys in equal measures, Ezell’s delivery one of aching abandon, both demurring and shy she sighs and murmurs forlornly all the time sweetly braided against a bracingly bitter sweet symphony of winter woven tear stained string arrangements that arc achingly and withdraw crestfallen as though a majestically inclined Windsor for Derby where studio romancing with the Delgados. Flip the disc for Providence five piece The Brother Kite’s side of the bargain, two full lengths under their collective shoe gazing belt - again both disturbingly ducking below our radar (tut tut) - offer up ’we can never be friends’. Ostensibly the more up-tempo of the split, the Brother Kite apply a deliciously mellowing tapestry of warmly drifting subtle west coast breezes to their hollowed honeycombs, the svelte swells of astutely melodic strums and the faraway spectrally tinged vocals endow the proceedings with the kind of affecting soft sheen glow as to make you wonder how and why they’ve so far remained casually out of reach of our much smitten hi-fi. www.darushka-4.com

A short and sweet release from Plumerai but not one to miss if a fan of the New England Dream Pop group. A 7-inch split single pressed in clear vinyl is an aesthetically pleasing notion on its own but mixed with the tranquil and humble ‘Vacant Eyes’ encompasses a release that uses to its advantage both groups small and eclectic fan base. The Blue Kite’s contribution is that of ‘We Can Never Be Friends’, an endearing if slightly too twee for my liking pop-folk tune and one that surely will soak up the grain of the vinyl pressing, adding to its lazy summer evening sound. An odd acoustic release for Plumerai and far separated from their usual output in sound, this fact alone marking the release as a special and probably one-off endeavour for the band and thus a must have for any fan. Michael Byrne