Slowdive - Slowdive
Tiny Mix Tapes 90
Slowdive
Slowdive
[Dead Oceans; 2017]
Rating: 4.5/5
The music of Slowdive has always seemed to exist in its own world. Like a fog of ethereal chords from which the sound was shaped, the music arrived nearly fully realized on their (also) self-titled 12-inch EP from 1990 and has, over time, remained so singular that not one among the hordes of admiring shoegaze bands has been able to replicate it with the same impact. But that’s part of the problem. Aspects of modern shoegaze, singular in its own right, come from this short-sighted attempt to create a facsimile of these sounds, in part through anachronistic effects processing. A misconception regarding Slowdive’s past work is that much of the band’s sound hinged on a cheap Yamaha FX500 multi-effects processor, but thinking you could just plug into one of those and get “the sound” would be missing the point, as proven by several almost-there but not-quite YouTube demonstrations.
All this is to say that if you aren’t already a fan, you may not appreciate Slowdive, the band’s first album in over 20 years. You might scope that YouTube video and think, “Yeah this sounds exactly like the Slowdive sound.” What I hear in Slowdive, however, is an ideal iteration of their aesthetics. Even m b v didn’t have that going for it; recorded partially in the past (in contrast to the contemporary recordings on Slowdive’s new one), m b v was destined to be loved immediately but ignored long term: an eternally gestating Loveless afterbirth whose album cover couldn’t help but reference its predecessor, whose title almost acted as a lowercase apology for tarnishing the legacy of an albatross. The comparison begs to be made, so here you go: m b v is good, Slowdive is great.
Of course, the original scene that Slowdive’s music occupied no longer exists, and like plenty of other artists, the band disappeared with it. But they return to us now with an album that sounds both expectantly familiar and not exactly like any of their previous releases. The songwriting on Slowdive is strong, as if the best ideas they’ve had over the last 22 years were held back for this release instead of their members’ other projects (Mojave 3, Monster Movie, any number of Neil Halstead’s solo albums, Rachel Goswell’s Waves Are Universal), condensing some of the most compelling aspects of their catalog into a cohesive whole.
Halstead in particular has incorporated the silvery guitar lines circa Pygmalion into somewhat more pop-oriented songs, while Simon Scott wrings urgency from otherwise languid songforms through propulsive percussion, notably on “Don’t Know Why,” “Everybody Knows,” and “Star Roving.” Then there’s the potentially alienating “Sugar For the Pill,” a great single that sounds like Pygmalion via soft rock, which is already ruffling the feathers of some longtime fans. “Go Get It” feels of a lineage with “Blue Skied An’ Clear,” all rippling washes of delayed guitar on the chorus, with weird, echoing, time-stretched verses. “Falling Ashes” is a frigid piano ballad augmented by Scott doing live loops that sounds empty, while the lyrics ruminate on the passage of time (according to Halstead, the track is also a good indicator of what to expect from them in the future). Meanwhile, Goswell’s and Halstead’s voices are in excellent form; there’s even slight vocal manipulation using post effects that adds to their otherworldliness.
Slowdive don’t sound as young as they once did, but they’ve aged in a way that sounds natural.
Roughly a week after Pygmalion was released, on February 6, 1995, Slowdive were dropped from their label, Creation Records. After a string of critically acclaimed singles, the excellent if underrated Just For A Day, and the now-considered-classic Souvlaki, Pygmalion was career suicide. To understand just how severe the reaction was, you have to consider that the original run of shoegaze was at its nadir and many of the scene’s players were already making the leap over to the burgeoning Britpop scene. My Bloody Valentine hadn’t been heard from in four years. Siamese Dream had pilfered many of shoegaze’s interesting aspects and melded them with arena rock bombast all the way to critical and commercial gold. The album itself had a sound informed as much by Aphex Twin’s ambient work as The Durutti Column’s early albums, and it hadn’t yet been corralled under the umbrella of “post-rock,” even though the term was used the previous year to identify the somewhat similar work of Bark Psychosis. In other words, the world wasn’t quite ready for what Slowdive were offering at the time.
Now, years later, with the online proliferation of the Souvlaki demo bootlegs and their studio recordings, the atmosphere feels right. That Slowdive could not only reunite but also headline festivals in 2017 seems like a weird dream come true. But that’s the utterly baffling reality: the past inside the present.
Drowned In Sound 90
One band who've enjoyed something of a renaissance amidst the spate of recent reunions is clearly Slowdive. Unfairly maligned and ridiculed by sections of the music press first time around, their music has managed to achieve what any self-respecting artist strives for: a timeless quality not only revered by consumers and fans, but also becoming one of the most influential bands from the past two decades in the process. Unthinkable as it may have once seemed, the likes of Mogwai, M83 and even Deafheaven probably would not exist in their present guises were it not for Slowdive.
Their self-imposed exile and subsequent reformation didn't just reignite interest in their wares, it also reaffirmed the band as one of the most innovative of their generation. A band not afraid to shamelessly channel their own influences - My Bloody Valentine, The Cure and Siouxsie & The Banshees (from whom they got their name) - into creating occasionally experimental but always fulfilling pieces of textured ambience that has since become Slowdive's trademark, if not signature sound.
So when the band got back together in 2014, initially for a handful of one off gigs and festival appearances, it didn't take long to work out there would be more to come in the none too distant future. Having confirmed to Drowned In Sound in October of that year their reunion was anything but an exercise in nostalgia, rumours of a new Slowdive album started to simmer before rising to the surface at the turn of 2017 when 'Star Roving', their first new material in 22 years was unleashed to an unsurprisingly overwhelming response.
Driving in mood and anthemic in delivery, it represented arguably their most accessible five-and-a-half minutes to date, its soaring melody and Rachel Goswell's delightful bridge vocal owing more to popular music than any ambient soundscape. What it also provided was something of a rallying cry to arms from a band whose career first time round had been a constant battle for acceptance. "Nothing left to lose, nothing left to fight" declares Neil Halstead at the end of its second verse and he's right.
Despite Slowdive being their first long player since 1995's Pygmalion, the band really don't have anything to prove. It was recorded throughout last year: initially at The White House in Weston-Super-Mare where they recorded their first demo before moving to The Courtyard in Oxford, another setting that holds fond memories for the band first time round, having recorded all three previous albums there while its owner Chris Hufford produced both Just for a Day and Pygmalion. As drummer Simon Scott said when DiS spoke to him recently, this was where the songs began to take shape and Slowdive eventually blossomed into the distinguished creation that stands before us today.
Bearing in mind the influence they've had on music since the last time they were together in a studio, it shouldn't come as too much of a surprise that Slowdive sounds exactly like the record you'd expect Slowdive to put out in 2017. Progressive yet not unduly dissimilar to what's gone before, but by the same token anything but a rehash of former glories. Which judging by the music Halstead, Goswell and Scott have all made in the intervening years, would have been decidedly out of the question at any rate.
Opener 'Slomo' starts delicately, its shuffling beat reminiscent of an ambient dance track before Halstead's otherworldly vocal takes centre stage, joined harmoniously by Goswell as the song eclipses without ever losing direction. Delving through Slowdive's canon, its perhaps closest in structure to the experimental sounds that permeated Pygmalion, and while Halstead and Christian Savill's guitars float elegantly high in the mix, there's an electronic sheen scratching the surface. As introductions go it's quite deceptive, as the aforementioned 'Star Roving' and equally flighty 'Don't Know Why' follow suit. With post-punk stylings that aren't a million miles away from Interpol's more rumbustious moments, it provides another shining example of Slowdive's dalliance with pop while making this record and as a result finds itself becoming an early highlight on the album.
So when recent single 'Sugar for the Pill' arrives in all its soothing glory, it reveals another side to Slowdive's make up. Although not as immediate as either of its predecessors here, Halstead and Savill's chiming guitar covers the song in a radiant veneer that makes lyrics like "Lying in a bed of greed, you know I had the strangest dream" sound all the more comfortable as a result. Both 'Everyone Knows' and 'No Longer Making Time' return its creators to the pop chagrin they've embraced so masterfully on Slowdive thus far. Where the former lulls the listener into a false sense of security via its traditional mediterranean style intro before taking flight of fancy by the first chorus, the latter unveils another unlikely source of inspiration towards the making of this record; Emily Brontë's 'Wuthering Heights'. "Kathy don't wait too long, we're no longer making time" says Halstead at the dawn of each chorus.
As Slowdive enters its final third, both penultimate number 'Go Get It' and closing piano driven epic 'Falling Ashes' find the band in a slightly offbeat experimental mode. While the former's eerie ambience and opulent middle eight crescendo draws comparisons with Sigur Ros or to a lesser extent, 'Rutti' off their last record, in turn suggesting the wheel may have revolved full circle over its 22 year axis. The latter's deftly constructed piano loop fitting impeccably with the song's sentiment ("Thinking about love..."), aptly delivered by Halstead and Goswell in sweet harmony. It's a bold closing statement that lasts a full eight minutes, possibly hinting at Slowdive's next musical adventure in the process. Because you can bet your bottom dollar that after making such a grandiose and spectacular comeback as this, the wait won't be anywhere near as long for the next installment.
A majestic return that doesn't just fill in the gaps, but points unflinchingly towards future horizons.
Fri May 05 09:09:57 GMT 2017The Guardian 80
(Dead Oceans)
Related: The unlikely renaissance of Slowdive: ‘Shoegaze became the genre of ridicule’
At the risk of encouraging more disbanded groups to reform and clog up festival lineups for the next 20 years, there is a certain pleasure in hearing an originator of a genre produce the purest, boldest version of their trademark sound. Slowdive’s shoegaze influence can be heard in so many contemporary guitar groups – a fact made even sweeter given they were derided by the press and dropped by label Creation after 1995’s Pygmalion album.
Continue reading... Thu May 04 22:00:21 GMT 2017The Guardian 80
(Dead Oceans)
When groups reform, it can take years to negotiate the chasm between what we want from them, and what they’re capable of delivering. Most never manage it. Slowdive, however, now sound powerful, confident, the band they always wanted to be. All phases of their short career are toyed with: the dense proto-gothicism of the early EPs, Souvlaki’s elegant swaddle-pop and the eerie electronica of Pygmalion. Falling Ashes and Don’t Know Why foreground hypnotic piano and military drums, respectively, to prove they’re more than processed guitars and leafweight vocals. Sugar for the Pill is desolate in its gorgeousness, and Star Roving sounds anthemic, victorious, as it should.
Continue reading... Sun May 07 07:00:26 GMT 2017