As meticulously designed as its outward appearance is, it’s the endless possibility of human expression that truly drives the core sound of The Invisible. Passion and sincerity above box-ticking stylistic traits: it’s this approach to the trio’s chosen art that fuels the fire burning deep into the soul of every second of their music. Read More...
As meticulously designed as its outward appearance is, it’s the endless possibility of human expression that truly drives the core sound of The Invisible. Passion and sincerity above box-ticking stylistic traits: it’s this approach to the trio’s chosen art that fuels the fire burning deep into the soul of every second of their music.
Dave Okumu, Tom Herbert and Leo Taylor produce exploratory, expansive pop music that operates on two distinct levels simultaneously: it’s instant of hit, melodies exact and hooks neatly barbed, yet there are cerebral qualities to the band’s eponymous, Matthew Herbert-produced debut album that reveal themselves only when the listener attempts to connect with the makers’ creative mechanisms.
“If you look back through the history of music, what’s lasted the longest is that which doesn’t put itself in a box,” says Okumu. “There’s something very unnatural about deciding to place barriers around expression.”
The Invisible began in 2006 with Okumu, who – encouraged by Matthew Herbert to record solo material – soon realised he required the input of friends Leo Taylor (formerly of Gramme and Zongamin) and Tom Herbert (a member of Polar Bear and Acoustic Ladyland) to make real the sounds inside his head. “It was an amazing process, and it really felt that something was happening beyond the confines of a solo project,” remembers Okumu. Recalls Taylor: “I was listening to what we’d done and thought: ‘Wow, this sounds exciting, and very unique… like a band, basically’. So that was that.”
That was that: The Invisible was born, the name arrived at after the three began writing. The moniker is a nod to the writing of Irish philosopher and poet John O’Donohue, whose simply articulated notion that humans exist in parallel worlds – the visible and the invisible; one physical, one spiritual – is a relationship, a balance, that comes through loud and clear on the band’s long-player.
Says Okumu: “If you’re talking about something dark, but being honest about it, by virtue of that faith being expressed there’s going to be something positive in it. I hope that exists in the music, as communication and expression is so fundamentally positive if you’re doing it for the right reasons, and in a way that’s real.”
Unafraid to challenge themselves compositionally, The Invisible’s boundless approach to arrangement has resulted in an album that skits from bass-heavy, almost dub-toned passages to the slinkiest funk-pop this side of Prince, via texturally rich deviations into experimental rock. It’s a mixture that’s won peer-level praise from the likes of Hot Chip and Foals, and the future promises further sonic adventuring. “I don’t want this record to dictate how we sound for the rest of our career,” says Okumu. “I don’t want to feel confined. I don’t want to have to repeat ourselves.”
Repeat and you ultimately fade, but reinvent and you sparkle. To say The Invisible’s potential is dazzling is to undersell one of the best debuts of 2009, but what could come next in their perpetual development is already a wonderfully exciting proposition.
