Cultivating a singularly unique voice in the world of songwriting and composition is a difficult prospect for all but the most naturally gifted of artists, fortunately, Calgary-based songwriter Chad VanGaalen defines that category. Infiniheart, an epic tapestry of crunchy guitars, ethereal textures and expressive hooks, exists as a selection of the hundreds upon hundreds of intricate, visionary pop songs VanGaalen has crafted and self-recorded in his home studio since 1994 with a Tascam 4-track, an Akai hard disc recorder and an assortment of analog gadgets.
VanGaalen initially experimented with recording and performing music in the mid-nineties by busking Canadian streets and art events with a simple setup of drums and guitar. Also a skilled animator, and illustrator, VanGaalen’s penchant for the visual arts led him to craft homemade saxophones, violins and an intricately whittled piano, all of which appear on Infiniheart. “The songs are very visual,” VanGaalen explains. Soon after bringing his music outside the tiny bedroom in which it was conceived, critical acclaim of his recorded material (most of which was originally instrumental/without vocals) gave way to subsequent opening slots with Stars and the Pixies, and he found himself garnering more attention from the press and the music community than he’d ever intended to receive. Of course, songs this stunning are never kept a secret for long.
Besides its broadly painted sonic landscapes and subversive, danceable underbelly, Infiniheart is an album that skillfully conveys parabolic stories through bizarre, lovable and often tragic players. VanGaalen’s mystical, highly sympathetic characters thematically explore loss, passion and longing through songs rich in simplicity and peppered with glitchy beats and his plaintive, vulnerable vocals. Amidst fanciful chimes, garage-fuzzed percussion and booming low-end synths, “Clinically Dead” touches on the mysteries of the subconscious: (“Clinically, he was dead/but the motor inside his head was still workin/so they plugged him into a machine/and let his brain dream”). The mournful, gorgeous “Blood Machine” tells of a society of underground inhabitants who desperately want to escape their circumstances, as they’re all connected to a central mechanized heart, and each other. Not every VanGaalen tale is steeped in sadness, though. The celestial images scattered throughout “Echo Train” are hopeful, even peaceful, and the backwoods dobro twang of “Sunshine Snare Hits” celebrates the escapism inherent in young love.
VanGaalen’s ability to communicate through works both seen and heard lends a full richness to the whole of his art that’s striking in its completeness. Deeply moving and endlessly surprising, Infiniheart is VanGaalen’s first for Sub Pop.
