Just under 30 seconds into ‘Divorce’, the virgin moments of the opening track on the debut album from streamlined post-rock Essex boys Red Jetson, random ethereal insignificance gives way oh so suddenly to a crushing explosion of heavy-headed lament, a dense plummeting mass of punishing world-weariness. It’s like, I imagine, being regrettably sucked through the window of an airplane at 30,000 feet and recalling the event with reflective cinematic depth, in studied slow-motion, as you float on slipstreams shortly afterwards unsure as to whether you’re alive or dead. As an experience it clearly overwhelms you, ripples your cheeks inside-out to say the least, and at the back of your mind causes you to question the apparent youth of those responsible, both relatively and actually.
There is just too much here for this to feel like a birth. It would be like delivering a baby with worry lines already etched deep, the Inland Revenue helpline number tattooed on the inner thigh and eau de Tennants Super already staining its tiny toothless mouth. The complexity, command and tangled conscience that created these 11 tracks are not the sort of things that can be arrived at overnight. It’s far from simple undiagnosed angst, it takes an understanding of the emotion to weave its strands so expertly and with such careful measure.
This is post-rock but, as Hope of the States attempted with some success last year, post-rock with a full beating heart and a desire to be related to. But where Hope of the States sometimes seemed too much like a dog following a bone, ‘New General Catalogue’ is a handful of ambience freshly culled from Red Jetson’s aura as they glide by.
While the production here might not quite push them into exactly the same space, the gradual and expansive craftsmanship tightly displayed on the eventually stellar ‘…The Sky Is Breaking’ and chilling ‘A Reptile Cold Blood’ match many of Mogwai’s heights from the breakthrough ‘Come On Die Young’. But it’s the gritty melodies and soaring, lump-in-the-throat anthemic qualities evident on ‘Stay Comfortable’ and the incredible ‘This City Moans’ that burn the same seal that previously adorned Elbow’s, Doves’ and long lost prog trolls Ultrasound’s majestic debuts.
There is such a nagging sense of utter sadness running through the whole record but it is explored right to its very ends. Their interpretations lend this very familiar sentiment such life and captivating perspective. It’s like having an entire city burning magnificently in three dimensions all around, but only feeling the need to focus on a painter capturing the scene directly before you. A quite staggering achievement.