Review: And So I Watch You From Afar ‘Megafauna’
Northern Irish instrumental post-rock outfit And So I Watch You From Afar have been steadily releasing albums and consistently winning critically acclaimed reviews for nearly 15 years. The peak of their output came with their sixth release, 2022’s Jettison, an ambitious ‘multi-media ensemble piece packed full of experimentation and collaboration’ featuring spoken word contributions from Emma Ruth Rundle and Clutch’s Neil Fallon.

The band started writing their latest album Megafauna (‘Large animals’ in Zoological terms) as far back as the pandemic-enforced hiatus where the band took solace in the communal bond they experienced and crafted an overarching theme of a love letter to their communities, filtered through the introspective prism of reflection. Even the title refers, not to the animal kingdom, but to their peers and, in the words of guitarist Rory Friers, ‘all of the friends and characters that we’ve grown up with who’ve made us and our homes what they are today’.
The recording process for Megafauna was fast; all recorded in just one week, such is the band’s passion and reinvigoration as they near two decades of existence. Attempting to blend jazz syncopation, distortion and their own instrumental flair, they seem hell-bent on a mission to evolve their sound and take their craft to new heights.
This is why I found it a bit of a shame that this album didn’t hit quite the high spots I’d hoped for as a follow-up to their last record. In the band’s defence, when I imported Megafauna into Apple Music (something that I would describe as a necessary evil given my refusal to move on from my beloved iPod Classics) it scrambled the running order, meaning it wasn’t until I sat down to really dig into the record that I discovered (to my shame) I had been listening to the whole thing out of sequence.
As a child of the album format, I get how much artists can put their heart and soul into crafting a piece of music that is supposed to be listened to in order to tell a story. Having to throw out my preconceptions and start again was incredibly frustrating and I tried not to let it colour my opinion of the record.
Opening with the light, sparkling notes of North Coast Megafauna, the strange whimsical start soon gives way to the satisfying crunch of the drums and bass thump as the band take you on a quirky, teetering run with airy, melodic vocal harmonies and the instruments thrash in robust fashion. Taking a left turn, ASIWYFA dissolve into a delirious sidebar that veers into a playful fashion, clashing with the heavier moments as they lurch back and forth between the two styles. The quiet break in the middle of the track brings pause to this wild dance before they return to toying with the listener, finishing with tremolo abuse, squalling guitar and huge ringing chords.
Do Mór starts with urgent, isolated guitar before the rhythm section crashes back in with faltering guitar and lashings of fuzz. The manic solo and cowbell combination lends a certain amount of frenetic jazz style impro feel to the proceeding and it is easy to picture the band locked in the studio throwing ideas at the wall. The moodier second half is filled with synth-like, discordant sounds as they slow the mood and then pick it up again, keeping the unpredictable feel going right until the last note sounds.
it is easy to picture the band locked in the studio throwing ideas at the wall…
The warmth of Gallery Of Honour is like a calming breath at first, then the drums ramp up and the whole thing explodes around the forty-five-second mark to a thrashing, heavy cacophony with smashing cymbals. Given the mood of the album, it would be too straightforward for the track not to take several twists and turns from ethereal calm, to blissed-out Indie jam, to a sublime piece of psychedelic space rock.
The pairing of Mother Belfast (Part 1 & 2) starts slowly with a slide guitar before a little laugh ups the ante and the quirky guitar flourishes set the tone for a drifting piece of shimmering, gliding moment of serenity with orchestral-like swells and bass-heavy passages. Once again, as the track evolves the music becomes a strange juxtaposition between the toying and the absolutely phenomenal. There are times however, I wish that when they lock into one of those divine moments, they would stick to it and push that aspect further instead of running off down another avenue.
Part 2 begins with a Five To One (The Doors) type drum beat before the crisp guitar sets off on a childlike intro. As with most of the tracks on Megfauna, it refuses to settle into a predictable pattern and breaks out into a faster pace with various fret techniques alongside dramatic pull-offs, more jazz-style licks and improvisation that swoops and dives with catchy tambourine accompaniment as well as fleeting, but funky grooves.
Continuing in a similar vein, Years Ago channels a lounge swing with the bass and guitar trading runs over the taut drumming before Any Joy has more rippling, gentle string work that grows in power as the organs and synth give the whole affair a neo-classical feel with weeping refrain that is disrupted by off-kilter notes.
Button Days is immediately more lively and awash with heavier churning riffs that come and go in the discombobulating tempo, stylistic shifts the return of the striking cowbell. At times, the track feels like it has tech metal breakdowns whilst managing to retain that Indie/alt-rock feel which contrasts with the warm strumming of the sombre and introspective Me and Dunbar.
And So I Watch You From Afar have a lot of talent and it is evident all over these nine tracks, however as a follow-up to the superb Jettison, I found the desire to be freer and more experimental sometimes got in the way of what they were trying to achieve. Megafauna is by no means a bad album, but personally, it falls a little short of their best.
Label: Pelagic Records
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Scribed by: Mark Hunt-Bryden