Get Visceral

[January 21st, 2004] The Artistery feels like someone's grandparents' house, if it had been hijacked by cultural aesthetes. On a recent Saturday night, the house on Southeast Milwaukie Avenue, home to a handful of religious-leaning artists, clicks and buzzes with a crowd. An order for hot peppermint tea is taken while Climber tweaks the keyboards, guitars and amps clustered around the den's baby grand piano.

A minimal, preprogrammed drum track is dropped before Michael Nelson pushes his fingers down on the keys of his torn and tattered organ. A chord fills the room with a deep hum that seems to make the lights dimmer, the chairs more cushy and the artwork more outstanding. If the aim of ambient electro-pop is to heighten the senses by gently pressing every nerve ending, Portland's Climber has got the formula down pat.

The formula isn't entirely original, of course. Sitting in a pub a couple of weeks before the house show, the band members list their influences, naming Coldplay and U2, among others. They noticeably avoid mentioning the "R" word, the band that any listener might think of after hearing the analog keys and throaty croons found on Climber's new six-song EP.

Finally, Nelson cracks. "I'm pretty naive, but all I listened to for three years was Radiohead," he says. "But then I started to realize that people will eat you alive if you say, 'Yeah, I want to be just like Radiohead.'"

Although songs like "Horns" and "I'm Here" are definitely influenced by Thom Yorke's artistry, Climber hasn't been recording and playing for the past two years so it could sound just like Radiohead. Like many groups roaming the pop landscape, including Coldplay and locals Kieskagato (formerly Rm. 101), Climber is simply using the tools exposed by post-rock Radiohead to create its own aesthetic. That aesthetic is a very nice one, grounded in more traditional pop structures and an unwavering commitment to setting a blissfully chilled-out mood.

On the band's EP, the warm hum of Nelson's organ sets the midtone for most songs, bookended by Caleb Brumbelow's rumbling bass and intricate high-end keyboard. Dean Ivester's guitar is economically added, working to bridge and push the band's pop structures to their peak intensities. Drummer Joe Mingus adds the bombast, playing with and over his own prerecorded tracks. He sometimes adds so much bombast, in fact, that the band opts to play without him for the Artistery show, fearing that too much boom might rattle the walls.

As Mingus sits happily in the crowd, mouthing out lyrics and tapping an imaginary kick drum, it's clear that the decision was fitting. Nelson turns to the baby grand and begins to plunk into a new song, "Bug Hug."

"Don't come over here and pretend that you care again," sings Nelson as the instruments quietly sizzle. "Don't come over here and teach me to fear your stare."

Pupils widen, skin tingles and the warm peppermint tea cools the taste buds like a desert rain.