Guillemots are a very interesting proposition to say the least. After 2006’s avant-jazz/pop debut ‘Through The Window Pane’ followed the successful ‘From the Cliffs’ EP, they returned two years later with the very slick, streamlined pop record ‘Red’, which, though quirky and rhythmic, lacked the versatility and vast eclecticism of their first album. Fyfe Dangerfield then played out his pop and MOR side for his solo album ‘Fly Yellow Moon’, and became one of John Lewis’ advert-darlings with his accomplished cover of ‘She's Always A Woman’ last year. Now, Guillemots are back with their new album, ‘Walk The River’. How will it compare to their previous offerings?
The title track is muted and haunting; Fyfe’s vocals ring out over a shuffling drumbeat. Paranoid and sleepy, simplicity is the order of the day here, though a reverberant chorus effect on the guitars and a suddenly catchy vocal on the song’s refrain add a ray of light. This track, with its building layers of verse and chorus, is a song that lazily enters your mind but will not leave quietly. Also, it features the award for a lyric that completely suits its place in the song: when Fyfe sings “I never said I was right, I just hoped you thought it anyway”, it feels like a true moment. By the time the finale enters after some Editors-style reverb-shredding guitars, Guillemots have won you over with their new, more subdued sound, which is at complete odds with their in-your-face catchy pop harmonies of ‘Red’.
‘Vermillion’ follows, waking you up slightly after the seductive lull of the first track. Guillemots steadily add parts to this simple pop song; “Play on, play on” implores Fyfe until, again, the listener is won over by the simplicity of the structure. “Play on, play on” indeed, appears to be Guillemots’ mantra for this new album. As good as most of the songs are, they don’t need to last more than 5 minutes, and sometimes risk outstaying their welcome. ‘I Don’t Feel Amazing Now’ is a prime example of this. The song itself is fine, with the slight strings, but the way it progresses is frustrating, with the needless Katie Melua-esque piano solo two-thirds of the way through and a fadeout beginning just as some sweet Fyfe “oohs” make an entrance and create a really sweet, scattered timbre that is far too short-lived.
Thank goodness they learn their lesson on ‘Ice Room’. This is closer to the Guillemots of old, the little icicle-sounding accompaniments during the verses are a nice touch and we can forgive the Arcade Fire-aping “Whoa-ahh-ohh” hook, the almost-defiant “I’m still alive” chorus and Win Butler-like delivery because Fyfe and co. serve up a truly upbeat cut here which is great to listen to loudly. However, perhaps due to the context of where it is on the record, or the way in which the song is recorded, it never escapes the monochromic nature of the album and becomes the sing-a-long anthem Guillemots perhaps wanted; there’s just too much restraint there.
This is the order of the day throughout the middle of the album as well: ‘Tigers’ opens with a Gemma Hayes-like piano introduction, but doesn’t utilize the chance to use some of the jazzier chords a Guillemots fan may expect and is all a bit pedestrian and repetitive. ‘Inside’ is one big, pretty riff that Fyfe’s vocals seem to wrap themselves around. It’s very pleasant, never really going anywhere, shifting to different ways of presenting the main theme. ‘I Must Be A Lover’ takes things a bit slower still, but with more of a focus on rhythm. The gospel-choir influenced choir is a lovely touch to the end of the song though and results in a wider range of timbre in a track than most of the other numbers on the album. 'Slow Train' employs some nice John Barry-esque effects and manages the incredible feat of making the backing vocal 'oohs' actually sound like trains! ‘Sometimes I Remember Wrong’ seems a tough sell at first: nine minutes long when all the other songs on the album don’t really pack in the ideas, just repeat them in subtly clever ways. But on repeated listens, the arrangement does shine through with the tranquil string section, the affecting backing vocals, the spooky piano samples in the bridge; Fyfe’s pedigree as a classical composer really does show here.
And, finally, something with a bit of colour to it. The first single, ‘The Basket’ houses a fuzzy synth intro and what has almost become a standard Guillemots soaring vocal hook. However, the song seems a bit patched together, with a verse that doesn’t really match the chorus and some effects in the hook before the chorus that don’t really complement the song very well. The “You knock me over” chorus is a clanging reminder of Fyfe’s own "I want you endlessly" repetition from his solo album’s ‘When You Walk In The Room’ and is another sign in that Guillemots may be starting to recycle ideas somewhat. And just as the disparate entities do somehow sum together in the second half of the song, we get an unexpected key change, which will either come across as genius or bizarre depending on how taken you are with the album so far. It definitely stands out from the other tracks on offer at this stage of the record.
And it only serves to highlight the sombre nature of ‘Dancing In The Devil’s Shoes’. Again, it’s a perfectly fine song, but very static, not really going anywhere in terms of musical ideas or in terms of Fyfe’s vocal range. ‘Yesterday Is Dead’ isn’t really much different, but they repeat the trick of using every second of a song approaching nine minutes to showcase some very accomplished development. Some gated percussion and a couple of synth sounds work very well with the reverberating, tremolo guitar in the background, and multitracking the chorus vocals actually creates a thick, yet sparse, atmosphere. The album then closes with a tender vocal from Fyfe on ‘Nothing You Feel Is True’, backed by slight organ and simple acoustic guitar arpeggios, with a slight tap marking the beat in the background. From the rest of the review, you may think ‘same old, same old,’ but actually this song works really well, and possibly should have been placed earlier in the album to showcase a bit of variety, but as a finale, it definitely sums up the album: simple and repetitive, but never grating. Though it also has what sounds like a French ukelele solo midway through. Which definitely gets extra points from me.
All the songs on the album seem to come from the same place: simple drumstick-tapped intros, acoustic guitar chords, simple drumbeats, repeated choruses and phrases dotted throughout and, unlike the previous albums, no utter standouts. There is no infectious ‘Trains to Brazil’ or ‘Get Over It’ style pop anthem. Likewise, there are no long and inventive epics. Yes, there are songs which are over nine minutes long, but to be honest, these are an exercise in amiable repetition, rather than exploration, such as their debut’s closer ‘Sao Paolo’. This shouldn’t detract from the fact that Guillemots have returned with an assured third album. It is earnest and serious, rather than sweet and playful like their previous efforts have been; it suffers from its opening song being the best song on the album; it isn’t the summer soundtrack we have come to expect from the band and a cynic may say that Fyfe is playing it safe on this record. But once you know what to expect, forgive its flaws and rather limp middle section, ‘Walk The River’ will reward more in the long-term than most other albums of its genre this year.
68
No comments:
Post a Comment