Two-piece bands feel like a strange and foreign anachronism. Remember when they were all the rage, particularly with the clique that thought bass was superfluous? (Turns out it’s not.) By design, these kinds of acts naturally have a limited sonic palette, plus The White Stripes essentially perfected the form with Elephant in 2003. So what is Sydney duo The Mess Hall to do? Well, Jed Kurzel and Cec Condon seem intent on deconstructing their sound; a process that began on 2005’s Notes From A Ceiling and has reached its natural conclusion with For The Birds. Rather than smash out more raucous rockers like ‘Pills’ or ‘Keep Walking’, The Mess Hall fills their fourth record with 10 songs that reinterpret Memphis blues for the modern age. ‘The Switch’ and ‘My Villain’ make use of the standard I-IV-V chord progression, with the latter employing this amazing fuzzed-out, dense-as-tar organ that manages to play, maybe, two riffs throughout the whole song. But with a tone like that, it’s never going to get boring.

For The Birds isn’t a bright record either. Everything on this album feels muted, almost monochromatic. ‘New Ornithology’ is as black as the liner notes, augmented by low-octave piano notes, Condon’s thunderous drum kit and Kurzel’s disembodied, haunting vocals. Lead single ‘Bell’ is as unfettered as they come, anchored by a muddy organ that’s playing substitute for a bass. Like most of For The Birds, Kurzel’s voice is smooth in ‘Bell’, riding within the lower end of his range. While a song like ‘Keep Walking’ on their previous record Devils Elbow exhibited The Mess Hall frontman as a gruff and gravely vocalist, For The Birds sees Kurzel at his most earthy and natural. It allows The Mess Hall to experiment a bit more as well. The glockenspiel and jangly, down-tuned acoustic guitar in ‘Tijuana 500’ shows that they don’t need to be all raucous and rowdy; that there’s more to their music than just distorted blues rock’n’roll.

Four albums in, The Mess Hall now has the confidence to expand their horizons. ‘Silhouettes’ is the perfect example of this, a song that swims in its own sea of reverb; notes breaking free of their instruments as soon as they’re played, floating away into the ether. For such a minimal setup, For The Birds belies the natural limitations of a guitar-and-drums duo. It’s a dense record, but it never feels cluttered. The additional instruments like piano, glockenspiel or sleigh bells are integral to the sound of this record, rather than being a perfunctory layer of gimmicks.

Add all these subtle elements together, and what you get is an engaging album that reinvigorates the tired two-piece format.

by Dom Alessio