Send "The Drift " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Pitchfork |
 A ghost hovers over instrumental rock outfit the Drift's third proper LP, Blue Hour. After 2008's Memory Drawings, the band reunited with original bassist Trevor Montgomery. But as a band member returned, another was saying goodbye: Jeff Jacobs, who primarily handled horn duties, died of cancer, giving the group his blessing to carry on without him before he passed away. The remaining members of the Drift chose not to replace him, and anyone with a working knowledge of the their back catalog thus far would understand why. He was far from just a brass sideman; the successes of Memory Drawings and 2005's debut LP Noumena were a result of not only the band's spacious dub-inflected sound at the time, but also the splashes of color that Jacobs' horn work lent to it. His wide emotional vocabulary allowed his contributions to range far outside the Drift's loosely drawn lines.Jacobs was an integral key to that sound and they seem to be going for something different on Blue Hour. Save for a few delay-treated guitar lines on "Continuum", there's little trace of dub on the album, but what they're moving toward stylistically is less clear. The mood on Blue Hour is often understandably tense, with Montgomery's low rumbles (as well as Rich Douthit's rolling, punctuated percussion) throwing stones against guitarist/keyboardist Danny Grody's aquatic ripples. The album's opening cut, "Dark Passage", remains engaging as its negative space is filled and, subsequently, drained with dread, but its lack of an emotional payoff makes for something of an unfulfilled finish. That sense of building toward nothing runs through Blue Hour, where inertia takes the form of soft-loud climbing (the 12-minute centerpiece "The Skull Hand Smiles/May You Fare Well") and ominous, out-of-place "Peter Gunn"-isms (early leak "Horizon"). The band's gift for melodic interplay is in limited supply here, so when some light finally shines in with the sad sways of "Hello From Everywhere", the effect is that of windows being opened in a room filled with humid air....full text |
| Mixtapemuse |
| Love is, arguably, the biggest inspiration for most music, past and present. There’s an inexplicable power in love that can influence, or touch, even the coldest of hearts and minds. Death also happens to be quite the catalyst when it comes to music, hanging overhead like a cloud that refuses to go away. When love and death cross paths, the ensuing inspiration draws out something especially moving. Blue Hour is a perfect example of this intersection. In January 2011, San Francisco-quartet The Drift lost their trumpet player Jeff Jacobs after he succumbed to a long, tough battle with cancer. The impact of his passing is felt throughout Blue Hour, a haunting, melodic beauty of an instrumental rock album. It’s capacious, meditative in nature, with guitarist/keys player Danny Paul Grody, bassist Trevor Montgomery, and drummer Rich Douthit uniting to work and build particular grooves and riffs through calculated repetition, as if meditating with sound. Their looming instrumentals display a patience and fortitude, walking a line between melancholia and euphoria. Bassist Trevor Montgomery is the anchor of The Drift, providing an uncompromising foundation of rhythm for his bandmates to work off of. Drummer Rich Douthit is consistent and sharp, playing with a focused, Motorik sense of steady pacing. Guitarist Danny Paul Grody, I would argue, should be considered a sonic collagist, rather than just simply a guitarist; he finds ways to create controlled chaos that manages to bear bright and dark melodies. “Dark Passage” starts soft but fills up with the delay-heavy traffic of Grody’s guitar work. “Horizon” is Blue Hour’s most immediate song, fueled by a heavy, propulsive riff from Montgomery’s bass, distinguished by Grody’s air raid siren dissonance and Douthit’s determined pounding. “The Skull Hand Smiles / May You Fare Well” is a delicate, spacey lullaby that transforms as it begins to unravel from the spindle of Montgomery’s 1-2 bass riff, gradually growing higher and higher towards the sky until it blooms into a vibrant flower of sound....full text |
| Eburban |
| In the darkest hours shadows appear blue. Eyes tired from sleeplessness play tricks and even the quietest sounds blast away the silence. The Drift, Danny Grody, Rich Douthit, and Trevor Montgomery, are a trio from San Francisco who understand troubled moments. The group had the good fortune of reuniting with original bassist, Montgomery, to reestablish their quartet lineup just before tragic news of fourth member Jeff Jacobs cancer diagnosis. Jacobs lost his battle, but The Drift have carried on in his memory to craft a well-performed, well-written album dealing with his passing. Blue Hour is the aural equivalent of mourning, but also goes into the possibilities of the hereafter. The darker moments are here from the beginning in the aptly titled “Dark Passage.” This piece of music is focused on using music to help the instrumentalists get through the pain. They find catharsis in rhythms and Krautrock like repetition. Electric guitar feedback washes over and around the beat. One is immediately along for the ride and the listener is at hooked from the word go. After a propulsive introduction the music slows down a bit on “Bardo I,” but this exactly what is needed. Contemplative dynamic interplay is put to good use because the term “bardo” refers to the state of existence intermediate between two lives on Earth, according to Buddhism, and that is the sound one hears coming from the band on this track....full text |
The Drift lyrics
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