Think about the albums you’ve heard in the last year (it’s the end of December, we’re in a lethargic, nostalgic mood, no excuses necessary surely). There have been some good ones, no? Verging on vintage even. Now think about how many of those you didn’t have the measure of, that you didn’t have in a box by about track 3 or 4 – even the good ones. A mere handful, right? Christian Silva may not be the single most eclectic or out-there band in the world (though they are indeed more than a little of both), and if the measure of them is that they attempt to soar out of the reach of the longest telephoto lens to where your imagination might just have to take over instead, then you do get that pretty quickly. But the point is that every song is so full of idea and ambition and a slathering desire to outdo itself – which is important and much more preferable than a desire to outdo or emulate another – that the songs just refuse to lie down.
‘Borders’ evokes Mott The Hoople and Brian May (yes, Brian May PhD), ‘God Knows It’s Good News’ and ‘Break From The Past’ take this forward with Queen solos and Pink Floyd pomp into more modern Muse shapes. It’s retro prog rock with bells on and there’s no getting away from that, but they don’t feel like they’re overstretching themselves, it all feels very natural. ‘Movie Night’ veers off delightfully into suspicious Balkan folk, reminiscent of Beirut, but with a more theatrical bent, and there are hints of Super Furry Animals elsewhere. It’s all tied together by the benchmark of Christian Hardy’s histrionic, noble vocal range, landing somewhere between Jeff Buckley, Freddie Mercury and David Bowie. And whichever way you look at it, that makes for a noteworthy pair of tonsils and goes some way to balancing out the flood of those who sound like Pete Doherty with a cold, choking on a gherkin. Bloody marvellous, I say. Bloody marvellous.