Gnac aka Mark Tranmer's fourth album (not counting compilations or a straight-up solo effort under his own name) continues in the vein of moodily elegant instrumental releases from earlier years, but with a smokier, almost late-night jazz edge that recalls both
John Barry and the reinterpretations of his work prevalent in the mid-'90s. That may be too soon a revival for some, but set aside biases and the blend of piano, strings, and vibes on "Spanish Winter" and the drama-laden opening of "Shinjuku Park," with keyboards creating an instantly mood-setting feel, hit perfectly.
Twelve Sidelong Glances -- actually 17 tracks all told -- often feels both like a soundtrack to a film and intermission music during the breaks (the organ break on "From Cougorge to Gougougnac" in particular almost seems like it should be accompanied by an announcement about where to get treats in the lobby). The quietest pieces on an admittedly quiet album -- the piano and gentle beatbox touches of "Chenin Blanc" and the soft acoustic guitar as the core of the steady pulse of "Telebanco" -- readily call to mind another master of understated work,
the Durutti Column's Vini Reilly.
Twelve Sidelong Glances' greatest strengths perhaps lie in its deft touches -- how "Perec's Beard"'s restrained organ and sense of hush evoke a rundown seaside funhouse, for instance. Meanwhile, there's also the sweetly unabashed romanticism of "Twenty-Second Night," and the slightly spacy synth tones on "Green with Fright" feels like a radar broadcast in the night, giving a gentler, less threatening touch to the album as a whole, as well as evoking the sly sweetness of the album title. ~ Ned Raggett