(Vinyl Love is a series of posts that quite simply lists, describes, and displays the pieces in my growing vinyl collection. You can bet that each record was given a spin during the drafting of each corresponding post.)
Artist: Pale Blue Eyes Album Title: This house Year released: 2023 Details: clear
The skinny: From the ‘in case you missed it’ files, I’ll be replaying my top five albums from 2023, albeit in a ‘vinyl love’ format, over the next few weeks; partially because I love these albums and partially because I have them all on vinyl and want to show off their physical beauty as well. My number five album of 2023 came courtesy of a band I hadn’t even heard of at the beginning of last year. Pale Blue Eyes is a trio that until recently hailed from South Devon, England, and formed just before the start of this pandemic madness. “This house” is the group’s sophomore record and as I wrote about it before: “It is 44 minutes of transporting music, songs that stick to your bones and seep into your skin, and make you want to live in the music and let it delay what comes next just a little while longer.” It also happens to be the last of this top five that I purchased for my shelves, ordered from the online shop of one of my trusted UK record vendors just back in November. It’s the standard clear pressing but you’ll hear no complaints from me on that count.
Well, folks, here we are at the precipice of a new year and I’m wrapping up the old one, crumpling it up like an off-scribbled on piece of foolscap, and jettisoning it in favour of new ideas… but not before celebrating my favourite piece of work that 2023 had to offer.
“Everything is alive”is Slowdive’s fifth studio album and second since re-forming back in 2014. Their original run spanned only six years from 1989 to 1995 but it was a prolific period resulting in 3 LPs, 5 EPs, and a handful of singles. The five players moved in different directions when they were dropped from Creation Records, a victim perhaps of the flagging shoegaze scene with which they were lumped, a flash fire that passed as quickly as it started. The lineup that performed on the group’s debut album – Neil Halstead, Rachel Goswell, Nick Chaplin, Chris Savill, and Simon Scott – announced a string of reunion shows nine years later and they’ve stuck together ever since then.
Slowdive has appeared a few times on these pages already, including placing number two with their triumphant return, the self-titled album, on this blog’s inaugural end of year, best albums list in 2017, and in pretty much every post I’ve referenced how I wasn’t super-enthused with them during their first go-round as a band. My attitude has, of course, changed and I now fully appreciate what they were doing back then and it goes with saying that I am completely enamoured with their new work.
“Everything is alive” got its start as many of Slowdive’s albums do, with principal songwriter Neil Halstead writing and demoing by himself. He had originally envisioned the album as more austere and electronic based. The recording sessions were then planned for the spring of 2020 but were in the end impacted and informed, as pretty much every album over the last three years has been, by the COVID-19 pandemic and resulting lockdowns. The recording of the album was pushed back and then spread out over various sessions and locations. But for the band, these were all joyous occasions when they finally happened, being the first time they had seen each in months and perhaps the first time they had seen people other than those with whom they were living for the same amount of time. This positivity likely informed the mood of the record and the original concepts for these songs were enlarged and expanded and became a representation of the band and their mood as a whole.
Indeed, “Everything is alive” is hopeful and joyful and full of life. It is eight songs that don’t want to be anywhere near darkness and solitude. It is five musicians and friends that have known each other a long time performing as one, familiar and familial, a large sound that can envelope and absorb and has room for everyone and everything. It is the album we needed, whether we knew it or not.
There is so much to love here that I wanted to pick all eight songs and run through each for you but in recognition that we’ve only got a few hours left to make 2023 brighter, I’ve managed to narrow down my picks for you to three.
“Alife“: Track three was the final single to be released in advance of the album and was the first one to be finished for it. It starts with a ringing and jangling guitar line and Rachel Goswell adds a set of vocals that are just as ethereal.”Two lives are hard lives with you.”And this is a theme that continues throughout, setting out a mysterious balance against Neil Halstead’s slightly more straightforward narrative. But really, it’s all just a whirlpool of sound and cyclical tones, a hint of relationship struggles, a blockage of communication, diverting wishes and dreams, he said, she said, a billion voices, all looking for love in this difficult life.
“The slab”: The climactic track on the album is very much that, dense and heavy and intense, its title perfectly describing the sound rather than hinting at a narrative. The intro is just over a minute and a half of pounding drums and guitars that fritter and sizzle in repetitive drones and underneath it all is something a bit ominous, washes of deep synths, like black curtains in a black room, ponderous and striking. When the vocals do come in, it’s like Halstead is allowing us in to a conversation already in progress but not quite completely opening the door. The words seem like they’re purposefully incomprehensible, just adding to the mystery and mood of the piece. And at the end of the five minutes, as the sound fades, you’re left bereft and just want to restart it but before you can stop yourself, you’re already flipping the disc back to side one.
“Kisses”: The first advance single from this amazing album is the closest thing to a pop single I’ve heard from the group in a very long time. Though it does feel upbeat and perhaps a little structured for Slowdive, it still is very much a chill vibe. The drums provide clarity in just one of the many layers of gauze and cobwebs, chiming guitars echo off into eternity and Halstead’s and Goswell’s harmonies flit and flirt on the surface of a million mirrors refracting in upon themselves.”I know you dream of snowfields, floating high above the trees, living for the new thing, sometimes the new won’t do.”It is a perfect sampling of the joy that the five-piece is looking to spread about here, drumming up memories previously lost, and forcing you to face them and appreciate the good and the bad and how they shaped everything that came after.
In case you missed the previous five posts, here is the rest of the list:
Getting down to the wire now, heh? Just two more days left of 2023 after today. I think we might just manage it.
I usually do this thing sharing the final part of my ongoing annual playlist on the morning of New Years Eve but I’ve decided to switch it up for 2023. My last post of the year, the last word as it were, will be dedicated instead to my favourite album that the year offered us. It feels fitting now but we’ll see how it feels when it’s all said and done.
And I know I just inferred that the finish line is a welcome sight but honestly, 2023’s been a pretty good year. A marked improvement on the last, which was a huge leap forward on the previous two combined. I can’t really say things are back to normal* but they feel more familiar, if not weirdly surreal. The COVID is still around and the numbers still seem higher than they should be for a pandemic that is ‘over’ but we seem weirdly dismissive of it. Nonetheless, I’ve experienced a lot of post-pandemic firsts this year, like the first time back in the office, first time meeting some of my colleagues in person, first indoor concert, first train ride, first road trip across the border, whew. All of it has been exciting but also saddening for all the experiences that we collectively missed out on.
I don’t really want to talk about everything else that’s been going on in the world because it’s more than just a little crazy, so many deaths and so much damage and so much loss. So I’m just going to get back to the music. These last twenty five songs is a blend of new ones released over the last three months and a few b-sides, songs that had been released earlier on but for some reason, I missed them the first time around or just couldn’t fit them.
If you haven’t already perused them, I invite you to go have a look-see at parts one, two, and three. If you’re already in the know, have a gander at the highlights:
Kicking things off right with “Real life” a new song from the raw and frenetic Canadian indie rock trio, The Rural Alberta Advantage
Emma Anderson‘s (ex of Lush and Sing-Sing) debut solo album “Pearlies” has lots of great moments that show she hasn’t lost her dream pop sensibilities and “The presence” might be the closest sounding to epic Lush of the bunch
As Trans-Canada Highwaymen, Canadian 90s alt-rock royalty, Steven Page, Chris Murphy, Moe Berg, and Craig Northey unleashed an album of 70s Can-rock covers, like this faithful take on The Guess Who’s “”Undun”
“Panopticom” is the first track on the first new album of new material by Peter Gabriel in 21 years and shows he’s still incredible at what he does
Toronto-based Breeze gifted us 90s alt rock aficionados with an early Christmas present with a new album that includes the wonderful “Ready for love”
The dreamy “Amnesia” by M83 is definitely unforgettable
“Cicciolina”, from Cumgirl8‘s debut release on 4AD show that raw inventiveness that brought the legendary indie label to sign them
My (life in) music lists 