Matthew Gair Aeroplanes And Evil Brains Aeroplanes and Evil Brains is singer-songwriter Matthew Gair’s second album, a clutch of eight songs mixing randy puppy love (“I remember the first time / I caught a glimpse of your behind”) with existential late-night-journal musings (“My Voice And Me”). The album roughly divides in two: the first half is multi-tracked, sonically rich material recorded on analog gear (including a preamp once used by Bob Dylan); the last three songs were digitally recorded with a sparser, more immediate sound. In keeping with Gair’s day job as a sound engineer for cartoons on South African TV, it is the details of sound and humor that pack the punch. The album is littered with unexpected sonic flourishes: the way Gair leans into the nasal on “Smell The Song,” washes of static, a squeaky chair, an explosion refitted as a percussive transition. Gair’s wry lyrics leaven his occasionally plaintive songs of travel and predestination. On “Ebb and Flow” – a sweet, that’s-life ditty – Gair breaks the fourth wall and critiques the song as he sings it, one of several moments that sound improvised on the spot. Aeroplanes and Evil Brains concludes with “The Refrigerator Song,” a soulful, deadpan paean to domestic bliss that proves that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.