Album Review | ‘Too Busy Framing’ by Minute Taker
Minute Taker’s debut album frames the depths of desire and confusion in an LGBTQ+ light.
Ben McGarvey, known creatively under the moniker Minute Taker, is one of several LGBTQ+ voices I have taken to over the years. His influences from artists like Tori Amos, Kate Bush, Bat for Lashes, and PJ Harvey (to name a few) were something I immediately recognized in his sound. Recently, the English artist re-issued his debut album, Too Busy Framing, on streaming services for audiences to hear. The project displays Ben’s aptitude for songwriting as each track develops the brooding atmosphere that encapsulates the listener.
The short prelude, “Intro,” introduces us to the various organic and electronic elements that will halo each tale going forward. Its gentle light makes for a nice precursor to the following track.
“My Electric Wire” sizzles with the remaining longing left behind by a still-smoldering flame of love. Ben’s voice trembles as he tries to let go of the feelings still haunting him, “I know it’s not your fault boy/ That I used to love ten thousand vaults of you/ Racing through my veins/ But I’ve had all I can take/ And now it’s time to take control I know it’s over.” I love the organic texture of his upright piano against the spark of percussion and guitar. McGarvey captures the feeling of static still coursing through your body after the relationship has ended.
McGarvey opts to create the pricky sounds of a demo on the title track “Too Busy Framing.” These rough edges and tape-recorded fuzz act to reinforce his need to create. He suffers from a prevailing frustration from the duality of wanting to capture these feelings in just the right way and being too distracted to live life, “When I am very old/ I want to have a gallery/ Full of memories/ Of moments I suspended there in time… I could have a life/ If I weren’t so busy framing.” His use of vocal layering makes for a haunting kind of purgatory that he seems to be held within.
“Conduit (Extended)” is an instrumental piece. Using a loop of processed vocals, keys, drums, and programming, Ben builds tension over what feels like a vegetated landscape. His cyclical piano melody paints the world in a haze of mist while the growing depth of sound pulls our view across the various flora that inhabit this space. With its electrical elements, there is some semblance of abandoned infrastructure that the drama of his tone wishes to exhibit.
McGarvey invokes a sexual cabaret vibe on “Lust.” Using samples from gay adult films, he weaves the moans and sighs into a rhythmic pattern that perfectly matches the dark sensuality of his piano melody. There is a hint of Tori Amos’s “Leather” in the flavor of Ben’s production. Coupling the sense of temptation sonically with his words of fighting against the urge to act on one’s homosexual impulses makes the song that much more powerful, “I know that you share their hatred for yourself and your kind/ But you can’t help feeling that you’re just a victim of your design/ Repression is dangerous but what can you do when lust claims you/ You’ve got to fight the desire before it gets a hold of you.” It’s an extremely clever amalgamation of devious and desperate.
“Echo 1” has a striking ominous tone from the start. Inspired in part by the Greek myth of Narcissus and Echo, McGarvey’s use of the piano threads a tactical sensation. His lyricism brings these tales to life, “And other voices may join her echo/ To serenade my self-esteem/ And I’ll just lean closer towards the water/ With each song they sing back at me.” I get the haunting shiver of chamber pop in the mechanical strike of his keys. Add to this the foggy cloud of vocal layering that Ben breathes throughout the piece, and you get an utterly memorizing sound.
“Today” trades his piano for the rich plucked strings of an acoustic guitar. Much like the foggy moors of England, his subtle use of reverb and layering envelopes the song in a cool blanket of bittersweet beauty. Out of this haze is the security McGarvey feels when with his lover, “I never lose control here/ I never feel ashamed/ And I’d have to be quite daft to risk it all again/ But when I’m faced with your smile logic softly fades/ And I’d leave it all today/ I’d leave it all today.” His ability to evoke tenderness makes his words feel that much more affectionate. The final moments of this track call back to the title track’s need to frame this moment in time.
“Almost” is the second instrumental piece on the record. Keeping the acoustic elements of the prior song, McGarvey descends us into the evergreen shadows of an overgrown forest. The guitar acts as our vegetation, his piano melody the blue cast light filtering through the canopy, and the layered hums the call the listener must follow to navigate this labyrinth of woods. This track tells a story to me. It’s dark, mysterious, and beautiful. Listening from start to finish, I was lost in the unfolding imagery drawn before me.
McGarvey encapsulates “Disjointed” in a world all its own. The muffled percussion boxes us in with the intimacy of a live performance. Ben’s mixture of chamber pop elements knit together intricate details of this vampiric tale, “I think I am addicted/ To this feeling I get/ I was born a fresh blood hunter/ I play with my prey ’til the end/ Then I dismember them/ And move on to the next one/ I’ll hunt alone/ Until I find my Rose.” What I like most about the song is its structure. I wish more indie projects during this time leaned less into the anthemic sides of folk-rock and dived deeper into the storytelling aspects that McGarvey does exquisitely here.
Ben sinks deeper into folk elements of his sound on “Becoming.” His words hit at the core of a child coming to terms with their sexuality in a world that finds it taboo, “I know that it is happening to me/ Slowly so I hardly realise/ I can’t fight a whole society/ So like the rest I’ll just turn a blind eye/ I told myself I could have been wrong/ Seemed to obvious to fool them all.” Keeping the tone morose, McGarvey amplifies the urgency of this realization using the hum of an organ and a chasing beat that conjures the feeling of running from your demons. In a way, this feels like the inverse of Sophie B. Hawkin’s “Lose Your Way.”
Ben closes this project with a reprise of the title track in “Outro.” It is a fitting close using a mixture of choir and acoustic elements. The framing here can hook back on the themes of sexual identity, fear, and confusion that McGarvey tackles throughout the album.
I thoroughly enjoyed Ben’s debut album. I adored his use of piano throughout the album. If you enjoyed the often Victorian elements of PJ Harvey’s White Chalk, then you’ll eat up this release. Another aspect that captured me is McGarvey’s candor around the often terrifying and confusing emotions surrounding the LGBTQ+ experience. I think songs like “Lust” and “Becoming” evoke these themes excellently. Even the instrumental pieces felt like they told important visual aspects of urgency that add to the overall thesis of the record. I do hope a physical release of this record is in the future. As it stands, I highly recommend this album to all those who are looking for new indie-pop/chamber-pop to climb into.
My overall thoughts on Too Busy Framing:
Loved it: “My Electric Wire,” “Lust,” “Echo 1”, “Today,” “Almost,” “Disjointed” & “Becoming.”
Liked it: “Intro,” “Too Busy Framing,” “Conduit (Extended),” & “Outro.”
Disliked it: None
My overall rating: 8.0 out of 10.
