Falling in slow motion

And There Stand Empires’ III is a genre-bending standout

I first heard the music of And There Stand Empires years ago, when I caught the last 15 minutes of a ferocious live performance. I was hypnotized and bewildered by the rhythmic madness and chaos. My initial reaction was, “This band scares me. But I like it.”

Several years later, I caught them live again and was struck by their meticulous technicality. Arms and legs flailed, fingers danced across fretboards and piano keys, feet abused pedals. Though it appeared somewhat random, it all added up to magic. I felt like the show was performed just for me.

Now, they’ve dropped a new LP entitled III. 

By any standard, the fidelity and production quality achieved on this album are outstanding, though I’d bring the bass up a smidge in the overall mix. 

Often transitioning seamlessly between different instruments, each member adds layers to the rich song work. Bassist James Plumlee pushes the musical idea into motion, feeding his bass through countless sounds from his pedal board. Drummer Hank Hanewinkel III and bassist Daniel Sutliff weave with power and precision around the melodies, anchoring the song themes while slowly building on top of them—an inspiring feat.

Keyboardist Julia Hangs’ exchange with the rest of the band is rich and rare. Whether on Rhodes or piano, Hangs plants melodic seeds in fertile soil. 

Though he’s no longer a member of the band, Clay Welch is transcendent on guitar. His contribution to III adds something truly special, an x-factor that’s hard to articulate. 

Opening track “Judgments from Fresno” sets the tone from the first riff; disparate instrumentals build into a series of interplaying passages that grow increasingly complex. 

The circus-esque haunt of “Cassini Mission” offers a bouncy theme that builds into a swarming delight; and “Global Thermal Nuclear War” hinges on big, dynamic phrases complemented by open spaces, to the effect of something like falling in slow motion.

“Working” opens the B-side. There’s no let down here—like a film score, the scene slowly unravels and swells with immensity. On “Invitation to Sleep,” the bass sings like a bird outside your window, serenading you as you slowly surrender consciousness.

The mysterious, whimsical “PBR Streetgang” closes the record. In characteristic Empires style, it builds in intensity, rising and then falling into an open void. Bright, soloing strings weave through the cavernous soundscape and circle back to the theme, punctuating the record with an appropriately epic sendoff.  

III breathes and moves like nothing else I’ve experienced. At times dark and heavy, it can also feel light and playful. It’s a solid, balanced achievement, a measured expression of these talented young artists’ musical and emotional development. It left me floating in a drift of melody. I’m proud they call Tulsa home.

For more from Jay Howell, read his stories on Tulsa musicians' not-so-secret society and Riverfield Rocks.