Circuit des Yeux is Haley Fohr, a Windy City-based musician who swiped her moniker from the name of the nerve that powers the act of seeing. Early on Circuit des Yeux was the byproduct of Fohr alone, but a few years back that began to change. Her new album enlists five fellow Chicagoans in the intensification of her already potent vision. It’s out this week on CD, digital, and virgin vinyl housed in an old-school tip-on jacket through the auspices of Thrill Jockey.
Haley Fohr’s inaugural ripples of note came in 2007 via Cro Magnon, a fascinating and short-lived duo with her friend Katie Leming. They issued a 7-inch in ’08 on Bruit Direct Disques; crudely captured, its two a-side tracks land approximately halfway between discernible tunes and squall while the flip explored a longer drifting milieu.
Along with a comparatively down-to-earth live performance for radio station WFMU that’s available from the Free Music Archive, Cro Magnon’s slim discography contains the opening cut on the Die Stasi label’s ’08 compilation XXperiments, the outfit sharing space with Zola Jesus, Buckets of Bile, Luxury Prevention, and U.S. Girls.
The LP additionally gathered selections from Leming’s solo endeavor Bird and Fohr’s Circuit des Yeux, the side projects arising before Cro Magnon even made a recording. In the case of Fohr, her own oeuvre has eclipsed the duo by a wide margin, Circuit des Yeux continuing with ‘08s Symphone; pressed in an edition of 150 copies by De Stijl, it’s utterly scarce today.
And Symphone isn’t easily findable digitally; missing from Circuit des Yeux’s Bandcamp page, its absence makes ‘09’s Sirenum the sensible place to begin a chronological survey. Lo-fi and truly solo, her sophomore effort is tense, at other moments folky, often noisily abstract and occasionally broken; during a couple of instances Fohr manages environments downright hair-raising. There’re also spots nodding in the direction of song-structure, gestures increased on ’10’s “Ode to Fidelity” 7-inch.
But Fohr really begins to flower on 2011’s Portrait, her music tightening its grasp upon the listener and demanding full-attention. Intermittently folk and drone-inclined, “3311” and “Weighted Down” also highlighted progressively more adroit songwriting, Fohr’s skills sharpened in the Recording Arts program at Indiana University.
A pair of ’13 discs subsequently illuminated further development. The first was “CDY3,” a 10-inch EP issued by Magnetic South Recordings and utilizing the guitar of Greg Simpson and the drums of Clarke Joyner; it includes a gripping seven and a half minute studio expansion of Springsteen’s “I’m on Fire,” a live version having previously ended Portrait.
Even better was the self-released (with help from Ba Da Bing!) Overdue, raising her profile considerably as the pool of collaborators deepened. It underscored Portrait as marking the transition from subterranean racket toward a bolder sound. Much harder to dismiss as merely fucking around, it was frequently just as formidable.
Fohr possesses a husky baritone that can hang onto the fringes of the operatic, her music having drawn comparisons to such predecessors as Catherine Ribeiro, Nico, Diamanda Galás, Patti Smith, Antony (of the Johnsons), Judy Henske, Jarboe, Elisa Ambrogio (of Magic Markers), Thalia Zadek, Kendra Smith, and Peter Jefferies.
Some of these I hear and some I don’t, but it seems Fohr is understandably disinterested and even disdainful of playing the association game, a situation reinforced by the sum of direct influences detailed in Thrill Jockey’s promotional text for In Plain Speech. That would be exactly zero, though to be fair, this past March she did post a list of gender appropriate musicians on her blog, “Fantastic Females Part 1” loaded with names Fohr “absolutely love(s)” to mark International Women’s Day.
More important than precedent is the broadening of collaboration. In support of Overdue she hit the road without accompanists, a tour manager, or even a driver; the shows totaled over 100 in 23 new cities and eight new countries. Contrasting with that solitary undertaking, her latest is the first to use a full band, though Cooper Crain of Cave and Bitchin Bajas was involved in the making of her last album.
Alongside him are Whitney Johnson of Verma, Rob Frye of Bitchin Bajas, Adam Luksetich of Little Scream, and Kathleen Baird of Spires That in the Sunset Rise. The result of their input is a document of impressive musicality that never weakens the authoritative allure of Fohr’s creativity. Indeed, the growth in writing and execution evidenced on Overdue expands through unforeseen twists.
Distinguished by fluttering, ESP-Disk conjuring flute, “KT 1” serves as a concise prelude to the Philip Glass-styled repetition found in “Do the Dishes,” its motions peppered with surges of fragmented tech too erratic to form a steady pulse. As the richness of Fohr’s baritone adds distinctiveness, the song adeptly shifts into a cradle of bowed strings and burbling electronics.
Offering a false ending and a quietly edgy denouement, “Do the Dishes” notably unfurls in three and half minutes. And at just under four, “Ride Blind” is a striking piece of dark-hued art-pop; driven by chamber instrumentation, as its buildup of tension is deftly released Fohr’s vocal glides atop, displaying her expert range to the conclusion.
Those stressed-out melodies from the days of Cro Magnon assist these developments from registering as a shock, but just as remarkable is the confidence and a desire for a full-bodied sonic spectrum, a combination allowing Fohr to step away from the microphone for roughly half of “Dream of TV”’s lengthier duration.
When she does arise it’s slowly, her voice enhanced and gradually attaining an apex of wordless intensity. It’s followed by “Guitar Knife,” a succinct cyclical study that gains in forebodingness as it closes side one. The flip commences with “Fantasize the Scene,” the landscape initially folky but with agreeable interjections of rock abundantly clarifying her still ripening writing talent.
Ending on a baroque passage, it segues into the drone-situated strings that kick off “A Story of This World.” Stretching out once more, the outstanding number wastes no time in reestablishing non-generic acoustic ambiance as tendrils of flute return to mingle with the chamber setting and an impassioned vocal crescendo.
Similar to its counterpart “KT 1,” the brevity of “KT 5” is transitional, leading into the LP’s closer. Featuring some of her heartiest singing, “In the Late Afternoon” is a moody proposition, at least until it again redirects into a livelier mode. After a short acquaintance, In Plain Speech seems a tad more inviting than Overdue. It’s also her best record, sacrificing none of her personality; once heard Haley Fohr won’t be mistaken for anyone else. Parties intrigued by Circuit Des Yeux shouldn’t hesitate to start right here.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A
