There are alarmingly few bands that ever make records with a view. Songs that really graft on getting the setting right. Songs that don’t just rely on a script to escort the listener up to promised new heights. The last few years have admittedly seen some extravagant examples of intricate set design; the ‘Deserter’s Songs’ of this world, the Spriritualizeds, the Flaming Lips with their ‘Soft Bulletin’s (though the recent ‘Yoshimi Battles…’ does shift its attention away onto more concentrated shorts). The Polyphonic Spree would almost be there were it not for the fact they’re unwilling to let their listener look out of the window for fear of seeing something unjoyful. And as anyone who heard their last album (2000’s ‘The Great Eastern’) will contest, The Delgados aren’t ones to shy away from spreading their wings. But even by their own soaring standards the returning Scots have, without a towering shadow of a doubt, gone and assembled what amounts to this year’s Lord Of The Rings of recorded music. And not an unturned stone, snow-covered peak or curious small person less.
It takes approximately 22 seconds of opening track ‘The Light Before We Land’ for you to first gasp at the scenery, as territory claiming drums crash the serenity of the building orchestral hush. Things last time were big, but this time they’ve got their own time zones, gradients and layers, man-made and natural, mountains, valleys and safe havens. And the emotion; there’s happy and there’s sad as is expected, but the combinations of and cross-referencing between the two feel that much more consummated. The practically anthemic ‘All You Need Is Hate’ (a much-needed rebuttal to The Beatles squeaky equivalent?) spars the emotions most eloquently, evoking regretful sadness with brimming joy. “Hate is everywhere,” he basks, “inside your mother’s heart and you will find it there.” Continuing, “you ask me what you need, hate is all you need”. Don’t be afraid of singing along, there’s more than a glimmer of truth in there. And even if there’s not, you’ll want to believe them, such is their knack of gentle persuasion.
With roles alternating between Alun Woodward and Emma Pollock’s lead, giving each chapter (for that’s what they are) a new lease of life and setting, the two characters weave circles between, above and around each other, working the story into an engaging tale of many levels. Emma is the melodramatic, sturdy heroine with obvious emotional flaws. Alun plays her chirpy though thoughtful sarcastic foil. Together they simply work magic. The theatrically sad ‘Woke From Dreaming’, with its vulnerable Carpenters piano and monologue emerging from a melee of bombast and chaos, is complimented from his perspective with a desperate beating ballad ‘The Drowning Years’. But then there’s the amazing sparkling first single ‘Coming In From the Cold’ to put everything back in perspective and a smile firmly back on its face. This album will certainly make you smile. It will probably make you cry. It makes us want to sporadically throw our arms in the air and say ‘thank you’. And just stop it at any point and look around. It goes on for miles.