School of Language

Apparently for David Brewis, two brilliant records in three years just ain’t enough. Field Music, Brewis’s British, XTC-esque trio, is fresh off a decidedly unrock-star revelation reported on its MySpace page last year: Out of a desire to “get in the habit of being creative,” Field Music would temporarily disband, with the idea of turning the band name into a larger creative enterprise, as opposed to a traditional tour-record-tour-record indie rock band. Hiatuses in bands are nothing new, but it’s striking to hear it in such nose-to-the-grind sentiment. But with this solo debut, it appears it’s working.

School of Language’s debut features Brewis solo, albeit in Vishnu-like form. The exquisite interplay of guitar-bass-drums-keyboards is built solely on his own multi-instrumental abilities, save for small cameos from hometown allies like the Futureheads. Accordingly, it’s a record full of sharp angles and fast cuts, fueled by impulsive, unusual and extreme spins on art-school pop. Take “Rockist,” a four-part suite on the meaning of language, which opens and closes the album. Its sonic centerpiece is a loop of Brewis singing every vowel (a-e-i-o-u), Steve Reich–style, over a wicked, early-Genesis riff.

In truth, the multi-instrumentalist solo project is not all that unusual a phenomenon in the digital era. But being able to envision a larger coherent musical picture—not just an amalgam of cool individual parts—is something only a rarefied few (Prince, Macca, Jon Brion) have achieved. This is one habit Brewis won’t want to kick.

School of Language plays Empty Bottle Friday 14.