Album Review: Hundred Waters’s ‘The Moon Rang Like A Bell (Remixed)’

Album Review: Hundred Waters, “The Moon Rang Like A Bell (Remixed)”

Hundred Waters is the collaboration of classically-trained pianist, flutist and vocalist Nicole Miglis and multi-instrumentalists Trayer Tryon, Paul Giese, and Zach Tetreault. While the guys had played together since middle school, the quartet initially convened as David Levesque’s backing members in Levek, along with former member Samantha Moss. They raised an eyebrow or two locally when they moved from the Elestial Sound label ― a small label dedicated mostly to psychedelic electronica ― to Owsla, another Gainesville, Florida-based label led by dubstep giant Skrillex. At this time, they had only released their self-titled debut album, which was light and ethereal ― a far cry from the “wub-wub” of dubstep. They quickly put this newfound muscle to good use, however, touring with the likes of Diplo and Interpol. Soon after, they performed on David Letterman’s Late Show, and their music was featured on a Coca-Cola commercial during the 2015 Superbowl.

While this remix is largely the creation of relatively underground musicians, I was both excited and amazed to see some of my favorite artists, Plaid and Siriusmo, reinterpreting Hundred Waters.

The album opens with an intimate, tender performance of “Show Me Love,” expertly rearranged for piano and voice. While so many recording artists have come to rely increasingly upon the various electronics, gadgets, programs, and whatnot, this recording allows Miglis’s essential non-reliance on technology as a musician to shine. It’s as if to remind us that she is just as comfortable with the world of buttons and knobs as she is standing in the ranks of virtuoso singer-pianists like Tori Amos or Kate Bush.

“Murmurs” is interesting because the original already sounds kind of like a remix. Brandt Brauer Frick is an acoustic ensemble ― led by Daniel Brandt, January Brauer, and Paul Frick ― that recreates electronic dance music. Their adaptation of “Murmurs,” with its deep, jungled beat, actually sounds less “acoustic” than the original recording.

“Cavity,” remixed by Shigeto, features a soft kalimba groove over which Nicole’s vocals are cut into percussive breaths and two-syllable segments and relayered. The original track is more cavernous, with a slight swing to it and an Oriental string motif, whereas Shigeto’s version is straighter, drier, lighter, and more playful.

“Out Alee” is one of my favorite tracks from the original album, and I could tell that the remix was British IDM duo Plaid’s unmistakable handiwork from the first listen. It’s interesting to note similarities in some of Trayer’s visual artwork, which hung on the walls of Hundred Waters’ Florida home, and the video for Plaid’s “At Last“. And compare the theme of the socially panacean power of music in that video with the inspiring lyrics to the opening track, “Show Me Love” (used for an anti-bullying ad). So it was something of a coincidence to see Plaid now remixing Hundred Waters. Plaid’s music is both very contrapuntal and pointillistic as well as harmonically rich — both on this album and in general. And this remix is not only some of their best work but perhaps even an improvement on the original. They kept the 7/4 groove but left the initial chord structure as well as the general arch form of the original song behind, instead composing something inimitably Plaid: sparkly and fresh, with a characteristic sprinkling of celeste glissandi, gently-syncopated glockenspiel droplets, and spacious, resonant open-voiced chords laid beneath a poignantly optimistic harmonic progression. This track alone (in my opinion well worth the price of the entire album) is justification for buying a new sound system for your living room熔r at least a big, fat pair of headphones.

Illangelo, who has worked with artists like Lady Gaga, Drake, and Florence and the Machine, has created a dark, sweaty, and potentially nightmare-inducing version of “Innocent,” heavily distorting Miglis’s vocals into something more masculine and serpentine and discarding the more adventurous harmonic language and structure completely. In his hands, this song has gone from being a “song” to being something dank and sticky, moist and dripping, unnervingly sexy, and perfect for a stifling hot dance club at the height of a humid summer.

Alex Hungtai, who goes by the stage name, “Dirty Beaches,” would fit right in with the low-fi, sample-mixing, hip-hop-loving, analog-loving DIY musical community from which Hundred Waters initially grew. In the original recording of “Broken Blue,” Miglis’s piano, seemingly filtered or run through tape in order to diminish (enrich?) its sound quality, is actually distorted by poor wi-fi reception. Having worked extensively with cassette media in the past and releasing mostly instrumental music, Dirty Beaches must have felt at home remixing this song. His treatment of “Broken Blue” is both brilliant and appropriate, evoking an empty, wandering feeling and a sense of introspective regret. Had I been told that this was Benoît Pioulard’s work, I would have believed it. The vocals are gone, replaced by a saxophone sample. His treatment of the material is minimalist, ambient, and somber, and I feel that the lyrics are conveyed well enough by the fleeting sounds of passing cars.

Brock Van Wey, who uses the pseudonym, “Bvdub” (based upon his initials rather than a reference to dubstep music), took “Chambers (Passing Trains)” and squeezed every drop of music out of it, both putting it under the microscope as well as projecting it onto a vast, nearly-ten-minute-long canvas. “Broken “Blue” and “Chambers (Passing Trains)” work well as companion pieces, and equally well so when remixed. Bvdub’s penchant for ambient music is apparent, as Miglis’s voice at times barely peeks through glistening clouds of dense, cinematic chords. Using the track as a point of departure, he begins to simply recompose the music, weaving a chorus through a lush blanket of sweeping synth piano and strings.

U.K. DJ Huxley remixed “Down From The Rafters,” and it sounds about what you would expect from a traditional remix: “boom chick” club beats under the vocals with a few effects sprinkled in for good measure. It’s a decent enough remix, but standing among some of the taller trees on this album, it simply fades in comparison in terms of the ultimate synergy that is created between the two artists.

Berlin-based producer Siriusmo blew my mind with “Signal” from his 2011 LP, “Mosaic.” With the chops of a funk keyboardist and years of experience remixing, he pretty much assumes the role of Nicole’s new arranger and one-man rhythm section. He did just about everything he could to totally overhaul “[animal]” short of a full-on big band arrangement (which isn’t a bad idea), and his take on this tune is arguably even better than the original.

“Seven White Horses” is something of an anomaly on this album, having been remixed by Trayer rather than someone external to the group. In contrast to the quantized, mathematically precise feel of most electronic music, it has a weird, lilting, quasi-Afro-cuban feel to it, rife with polyrhythm, in a 5/4 meter. Perhaps better suited to stomping than dancing, it eventually breaks into a rhapsodic 4/4 but still appeals more to the left-brain than to the hips and feet. If you’ve heard any of Trayer’s previous work, you may agree that this remix’s relatively cerebral quality is consistent with it. With an admirable artistic patience and attention to detail, he thoroughly demonstrates his ability to create a sort of aural robotic amusement park, both surreal and daunting.

Fellow Floridian Kodak To Graph handles “Xtalk,” changing it from what could almost be described as a pop song in the style of Coldplay into a downtempo dance track, a bit like like Huxley’s treatment of “Down From The Rafters.”

“No Sound” strikes me as something that might have been found on their debut album, and it’s recomposed by members Paul Giese and Zach Tetreault, who’ve taken the original and arranged it for — of all things — harp, brass ensemble, and what sounds like a harmonium. It retains its spacious quality at times while at others feeling a bit bawdy, like “Life In A Glass House,” from Radiohead’s Amnesiac.

Hundred Waters continue to raise the bar and keep it high for the music industry in general as well as represent the artistic community that is their heritage. “The Moon Rang Like A Bell” stands on its own merits. But the remix album, in all its diversity, is good enough that it could have been bundled with the original as a two-disc release.