Collections of Colonies of Bees

Even if you’re not familiar with the strangely nested possessive prepositions of the name Collections of Colonies of Bees, you might know the sound of the Wisconsin group’s intricate instrumental rock thanks to one of last year’s most intriguing supergroups, Volcano Choir. On Unmap, a collaboration with longtime friend Justin Vernon, famous for his falsetto hymns as Bon Iver, the Bees provided the score for Vernon’s voice. That was Bees drummer Jon Mueller building the cavernous pulse on “Still,” and that was electronics-and-keyboards wizard Thomas Wincek sculpting the sonic climb of “Islands, IS.” And those chiming guitar tones that wind through “Seeplymouth,” cutting through the space like little rivulets slicing toward a great river? Those have served as the Bees’ trademark for a dozen years now.

Formed in 1998 by Rosenau and Mueller after the end of their Polyvinyl Records band Pele, the Bees began as a way to explore acoustic music rooted in American folk and bluegrass, but routed through modern electronics. Across six CDs, they alternately developed and destroyed that approach, sometimes staying tender and delicate but other times exploring the limits of their own volume. The twain met first on 2004’s Customer and then again on 2008’s glorious, four-piece epic, Birds. Released by Table of the Elements, arguably the most influential outlet for American experimental music of the last two decades, Birds was the band’s first effort as a five-piece—and, ultimately, its most magnetic music to date. Mueller’s drumming provided a powerful, thoughtful backbone, covered with an elegant integument—again, those bewitching guitars, billowing electronics, swelling bass tones. Birds is massive music that’s careful with the minutiae, dazzling just as it perplexes.

It’s not incorrect to call this post-rock, as the Bees certainly boast the lift and majesty of bands that have turned that term into a brand—Mogwai, Explosions in the Sky, even Tortoise. Given the glistening electronics and grand compositional sense of Collections of Colonies of Bees, however, it’s also a frightfully reductive classification This music  often feels limitless. And in its gorgeous starts and bounding crescendos, it’s likely to make you feel that way, too. —Grayson Currin