It must be an annoyance for any artist or band to have to wait several months or longer for their work to be released in certain territories (or at all). Red Tape, waiting for some besuited thinktank to determine the most advantageous release window like some bizarre musical feng shui, or just trying to get the best deal for wider distribution, it has to be a monumental pain in the arse to have a record full of things you’ve poured your heart and soul into for months, and then have to wait before the World (or parts thereof) can tell you how ace you are.
On a selfish note it is a bit handy for me, as it means that I can harp on cheerily about stuff that was first unveiled a couple of years ago but only now properly released (like Matt Berry’s Witchazel), or great music that I had completely missed on first release and that has now reached a wider audience thanks to new distribution, such as the wonderful Head and the Heart and indeed this record – for which the recent UK release (denizens of the former colonies were treated to this last October) is joined with a bonus disc containing their Bright Bright Bright EP for those of us (like me) who managed to miss out on that gem first time of asking also.
There is no gentle introduction to Wild Go. Rolling bass drums and an urgent accordion are soon joined by Nona Marie Invie’s powerful and tuneful vocals, followed by the rest of this six-piece. The instrumentation may be traditional and baroque, but the sound is BIG throughout, setting them apart from many of their folky contemporaries.
Despite these largely dramatic arrangements, there is plenty of room for subtlety. Daydreaming hangs delicately on its thoughtful piano swing that sounds like the Twilight Singers channelling early Tori Amos, and the accordion riff that carries Celebrate wouldn’t feel out of place in a 1930s Parisian nightclub, just as Say The Word evokes a similarly-aged Berlin.
The band’s name doesn’t really promote themselves as paragons of all things chirpy, but – like the aforementioned Twilight Singers – the dark they inhabit and breathe isn’t oppressive or malevolent, it’s welcoming and accepting.Mid-album epic Something For Myself with its haunting and haunted choir and patient build up is a melancholic song, but an inclusive one and heartbreakingly romantic for it, and one that ultimately soars. When co-writer (and possessor of quite an awesome name) Marshall LaCount takes centre stage, the mood becomes a bit more introspective in terms of lyrical style and a lonelier delivery of vocal, but it also has to be said that his Right Path is the most musically toe-tappingly cheerful out of the songs on offer here.
It’s the piano-led tracks that are the most arresting however. Robert (which brings the Decemberists’ Dear Avery to mind) comes across as an incredibly personal recollection, aided immeasurably by a perfectly-judged reverberating arrangement of the sort that benefitted the Fleet Foxes’ debut and the Low Anthem’s recent release. The spirit of these bands (particularly the latter) is further evoked by the breadth of instrumentation – banjo, clarinet, cello, guitar, double-bass and trumpet embellish the instruments already documented above.
And I guess it’s the connections to all these other acts mentioned in this post that feeds my infatuation with Wild Go. While some sonic or emotional links may be tenuous, it’s a record that brings together much that I love about the music I enjoy so much at the moment, and as such it’s an easy record for me to listen to whether in the middle of the night or in the uncharacteristic bright sun of this extended Mancunian Spring*. Dark Dark Dark can go anywhere they want with this album – mainstream acceptance and adulation, film soundtrackery, or the backrooms of bars. Wherever it is they go, I look forward to hearing it.
*By “extended”, I of course mean “it’s not rained for almost a week”
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