Music is a wonky art form. It’s so ethereal and intangible, unlike poetry or sculpture. It’s just variations in the density of a medium – air, most of the time –: they pass you by and you try to grab enough to make sense of them. You don’t get a second glance, you can’t hold it and analyse it thoroughly unless it’s transformed; either as notation or spectrum analysis. That’s why, I suppose, the most popular forms of music keep their message simple; more people can comprehend what they’re experiencing. Even then, it’s messy, it’s blurry, and, most of all, it’s left to the imagination of those who harken. Glass Bell seem to be aware of this, and they’ve released a vivid, abstract, and incongruous album with the name of Glib Glab. Their otherworldly compositions remind me slightly of Doom Salad, like freeform math rock, not bound by archetypes or expectations. This album is wonky and peculiar, most probably unlike anything you’ve heard before. It’s a musical experimentation that’s not supposed to be rewarding or cathartic. It’s an artefact, and it’s worth listening to because it takes advantage of the limitless opportunities of the art form of music by attempting and creating something new and unexpected.