Sendelica - Anima Mundi (2015)

The retrospective Fabled Voyages Sendelica took earlier this year must have been a restful one. They’re back with a fresh long-player and though they haven’t taken up residence permanently on the deck chairs by any means, they do exude a calmer and more laid-back vibe that pushes ‘Anima Mundi’s’ new material to the reflective. They haven’t forsaken their oft displayed grind, but much of it has been stretched out, the hard edges and angularity given some curves and swells. The change in tack doesn’t take them off course. It simply nudges those parts of their character up to the fore. ‘Anima Mundi’ kicks off with ‘The Creaft Worker,’ an upbeat bubbling piece of pulse with synths, dancing bass and sax cut with some languid guitar that gives it an atmosphere that wouldn’t be out-of-place handled by more overt electronic hands. It has the same soothing effect as your boat finally slipping away from the dock and the trip finally getting underway. They waste no time covering some mileage with the lengthy ‘Master Benjamin Warned Young Albert Not To Step On The Uninsulated Air.’ Though the change seems abrupt kicking in from ‘The Creaft Worker,’ much of it feels like the opener’s line of reasoning elasticized to more than double the chewing satisfaction. The guitar grit and a little trademark chug come into play, played out over another effervescent bottom-end that doesn’t shy away from stirring in some Kraut beats. The longest cut on the album, ‘Master Benjamin … ’ nonetheless remains active and downright perky in places for the full run, finally taking a watery breath on ‘The Pillar of Delhi’ (with some support on guitar from Curvey of The Luck of Eden Hall) and the melancholic ‘Azoic.’ The spacey mellowness isn’t anything new to Sendelica, but back-to-back after the springy salvo of the ‘The Creaft Worker‘ and ‘Master Benjamin … ’ it drives home a liesurely objective on ‘Anima Mundi,’ one that seemingly finds them enjoying the view from those deck chairs. They already hinted that this isn’t a polish job, but keeping in line with where they’ve been so far, Sendelica ease the sand and gravel back in rather than going for an obvious pummel. Something they’ve already proved they can do many times before. That there might be a telling sign for ‘Anima Mundi’: they sound like they have nothing to prove and consequently lends ‘Anima Mundi’ a full-bodied and unhurried sheen. ‘Baalbek Stones‘ kicks in tougher with the burrs and shavings, then easily finds its place with the album’s overall tone and settles in for a saxed out ride out that sets you up for the heavy-footed and gulping ’The Breyr’, ‘The Taeogion’, and ‘The Caethion.’ More of a behemoth than what’s been paraded so far, there’s still a smoothness lurking under the stops and starts. Closing pair ‘Searowhit’ and ‘The Hedge Witch’ bring Sendelica full circle, collapsing the tangents that got them to this point into a de facto glide back into port. They are certainly two distinct tracks, but with Sendelica’s wider, patient arc across ‘Anima Mundi’ they come over as sharing the same mindset, one that ’The Hedge Witch’ easily sums up. Throwing around words like ‘mellow’ and ‘laid-back’ shouldn’t imply that Sendelica have lost any of their heft or push. The ether they navigate is still as thick as soft resin, but rather than ram through ‘Anima Mundi’ they’ve chosen to maximize movement by working with the flow, not just going with it.