As an introduction to an artist, an EP can be frustrating. On one hand, it can be the perfect bait to entice a listener to want more from the artist, chomping at the bit to get a bigger helping of music. On the other, it can afford a listener too short a glimpse into an artist’s sonic repertoire, leaving one tormented by an inability to get enough meat between the teeth to make a sound judgment.  Listening to Ochre’s Death of an Aura had the latter effect on me.

Jumping right in, the percussion on “Circadies” sounds as if, in a parallel universe, Leary attended the Aphex Twin/mu-ziq College of Drum Programming. The stilted, high-tempo rhythms take a page from the texts of professors James and Paradinas. Quickly plucked string sounds add gravity to that parallel. But “Circadies” collides head-on with the successive “Whispers,” which is too up-front and abrasive to represent something so micro-sensual as a whisper. Instead, it sounds more like marching bugs. At the 2:30 mark, Leary employs some nice cymbal programming, which pans back and forth in little crashes, adding depth to a somewhat flat rhythmic feel. This is evidenced by a bass drum sound that has a punchless feel of little round cookies of thump.

To this point, Death of an Aura lacked the aural hue of ochre, which is usually associated with mineral pigments of red, yellow or brown. Yet, with the plucked lute of “Napoli” I felt that aligning audio pigmentation. “Napoli” sits as the upbeat cousin to a mellow composition of Colleen due to that lute, utilizing a sound that recalls Colleen’s multi-instrumental skills, but grafted onto an Aphex Twin dermis. The tension is best built in the feeling that an army of malcontented, mechanical insects lurks in the wings awaiting rhythmic marching orders that never seem to come from their field general. And then the feel shifts again.

“Pteron” sounds, to me, like the in-flight music for a trip to Sky City to meet Prince Vultan and the Hawkmen. A flanged-out bass line, particularly, recalls such early ‘80’s sci-fi camp. The EP peters out with “Threnodie,” a mellow little outtro and a need for more, but also a disappointment at the understanding that Ochre hasn’t seemed to find a consistent sound. Hopefully, Leary can grow and cultivate a more mature sound, one that stands its ground amidst a sea of the ordinary.

-Gabriel Bogart