There are apparently multiple dimensions out there. You know the sort of thing. Space, time, wormholes and supernatural conflagrations all separated by, hopefully, common sense and mathematical probability but probably by the tin foil that they sell in Lidl. Lidl tin foil is, of course, a quality tin foil but, as a means of maintaining multidimensional stability, its worth has yet to be scientifically proven. Anyway, in one of those other dimensions separated by a product of processed bauxite, Drew Mulholland could be a purveyor of hit singles and “A Portmanteau of Horrors” would top of the album charts for 46 consecutive weeks.
“A Portmanteau of Horrors” isn’t a conventional album but I would suppose that Drew Mulholland has been on his chosen path for long enough that he could, and would, neatly avoid anything that might be classed as commercial or approachable. That said, once your ears acclimatise to the inherent disconnection resulting from the spirited use of soundbites and loops, this album starts to make a certain kind of sense. Not the verse chorus verse chorus kind of sense but the kind of sense that makes people believe in ghosts, reincarnation and the promises of politicians. Normally, I would advise listening to albums like this on headphones as curiosity is often better served by reproduction through that more intimate means but, this time around, the use of speakers and volume and the last of my Oktoberfest stash gave these thirteen sonic constructions an almost hallucinogenic effect much like that time I watched Eraserhead after an extended summer session of appreciating the art of the brewer.
“A Portmanteau of Horrors” will probably appeal to a small subset of the record buying public yet it is always clear that Drew Mulholland has a purpose in doing what he does. Individuality is good and always will be.