On Forget The Night Ahead, The Twilight Sad aim for, and resolutely achieve, hugeness. This may not come in the form of commercial hugeness, though there’s nothing intrinsic in their music that might impede this, but, in terms of their sound, it’s all there. A traditional guitar/bass/drums/vocal line-up, each instrument is afforded the space to be heard. But it is definitely Andy MacFarlane’s guitar textures that dominate. And they are epic. True lava fuzz bathed in canyons of reverb but which maintain a presence in spite of sometimes being distorted almost to the point of losing their ability to sound specific, distinct notes. The band started out by creating 30 minute noise-improv works and that heritage can still be heard, even within their current, fairly structured song-based context.
The album starts with some grinding feedback drone as the intro of ‘Reflection Of The Television’ then builds with driving bass and solid, plodding drums. James Graham’s voice then begins intoning in a beautiful broad Scottish accent. Each element builds tension over the opening four minutes. Then, with just a minute to go, everything erupts and the sound is engulfing. ‘I Became A Prostitute’ just jumps right in, the avalanche at the outset which turns on and off throughout the song creating contrasts of light and dark. Tracks like ‘Scissors’ most clearly rely on the band’s earlier incarnations – a vocal-less, distorted drone that squirms around for 3 minutes of fuzzy bliss. ‘Floorboards Under The Bed’ utilises an a capella intro (which freaked me falling asleep with headphones on as it places Graham right in the room with you) then a dark piano is supported by the haze of guitars. ‘The Neighbours Can’t Breathe’ uses a more post-punk tempo and rhythmic jerkiness with some truly shoe-gazing guitar wammy-bar action. Lyrically, the track titles tend to sum up the darkness to be found, but they are intrinsically poetic and so avoid any sort of faux-gothic excess.
Forget The Night Ahead often reminds me of Interpol, mostly due to the timbre of Graham’s voice and a similar melodic aesthetic, unencumbered by harmony vocals and the like, as well as a similar rhythmic basis to both bands. The guitar textures here, however, are much bigger, with a definite nod to My Bloody Valentine, though without as much of the fey dreaminess their guitar noise often conjured. The album can have a sense of dryness as the production remains fairly similar across its 50 minutes but, as with much good music, repeated listening and familiarisation open up the subtleties and shifts which ultimately make the album very rewarding.
Adrian Elmer
*
Leave a comment