This is a seriously strange record, defiantly lo-fi – reverberating with hisses and crackles – yet, at times has a rich, delightful sound – utilising piano, keyboards, banjo and ukulele. The song titles and subjects range from the profane (‘Pornography’) to the profound (‘Wittgenstein’) and take in many themes and moods in-between. It’s also strange in that I keep thinking, this an album I couldn’t listen to a lot but then keep finding myself playing it again and again, finding new surprises lurking in each song.
Opening song ‘My Name Is George’ is quite primitive sounding. It has a neat introduction with its ukulele, lolloping double bass and layers of percussive instruments. Thomas’ voice mixes a sense of boastfulness with a raw, weary delivery, telling us “My name is George and I was once the heavyweight champion of the world” before warning us not to mess with him. ‘Ice Lollies In Summer’ has a melancholy feel to it, a lament to summers and loves past. Employing an accordion as the main instrument the aura is eerie and dirge-like but quite moving. ‘Pornography’ has a fuzzy, edgy atmosphere. There’s an odd prettiness to this dark, at times, creepy song, lines like “On the screen another picture of death and disease” tempered by some sweet melodies which give the song a weird voyeuristic feel surrounding it.
‘Country Song’ draws on some of the same themes of solipsism and onanism with verses such as:
People told me I could not go on this way
Living alone for all my days
Cos I found there’s more to love
Than looking in mirrors.
Musically it more or less does what it says on the tin with its gentle acoustic underpinned by the double bass before being joined by some sombre organ and gentle percussion giving it an elegant laidback feel. ‘Wittgenstein’ is a delicate, brief song, sparse but full of little decorative flourishes as the words warn of the dangers of reducing the world to fixed theories and ideas. Okay, on paper this may not sound like the most enervating concept for a song but trust me, it’s a clever, cool song that argues that there is a place for magic in the world as well, that some things can’t be legislated for or empirically explained and reduced.
‘Sand Dunes’ has a blurry, hazy sound accompanied by crashing waves threatening to wash the song away in places. It’s another sweet song with gorgeous melodies, full of images of love and loss. ‘Float In A Boat’ is another brief song, a frail eerie tune capturing a moment already lost:
We could dance in the kitchen
We could try to be stars
But I’ll never, I’ll never
See you again.
It has a dreamy, lullaby feel and a real emotional pull.
‘Asbestos’ is a dark song that begins with the narrator being unceremoniously dumped on Christmas eve and a punching a hole in the ceiling with tragic consequences. Worst of all, in time he comes to realise that “Sally was not the girl for me at all”. The song is bleak and desolate with some dark, visceral imagery contained within the lyrics. Yet again though the tune is full of lovely melodies shining a light into the sense of mortality and decay relayed through the lyrics.
At this point things get a little confusing here as there are eleven songs on the sleeve track listing but twelve on the disc. This one doesn’t seem to fit any of the titles lyrically. It’s another song about stasis and decay with lines like “Why does my blood keep flowing / Through broken bones and frozen skin?” adding to the sense of loss and alienation. Once again though, the tune is hauntingly lovely, a simple riff, subtle percussion and a melodica combining to add to the atmosphere. ‘Brighton Pier’ has a desolate, despairing feel to it, all fading, crackling sounds and vocal. Although Thomas sings of “A beach in midwinter / What an un-seasonal treat” the feeling is of something irretrievably lost forever and is heartbreaking.
‘Post Sex Change Operation Blues’ has a more up-tempo feel. Shuffling percussion, strummed guitar and xylophone frame a lyric about dreams, identity, gender and the struggle to belong. Thomas’s voice is at its warmest here as he sings
I could have been a girl just like you
I could have been this
And I could have been that
How strange to think.
It’s a warm-hearted song suggesting that identities are fluid and constantly changing, constructed from many sources and influences rather than dished out as standard issue, fully-formed and pre-defined.
The final song ‘Coast’ is full of weird shifts and changes with a chaotic centre that breaks down into a maelstrom of crashing waves and discordancy before washing up on calmer shores where the song and narrator re-surface again on the shore “Seeing the tide come in like an old friend”. As last lines go it’s an optimistic way to end an album that often looks in some very dark places, that deals in loss and pain but remains open to the possibility of ideas of redemption, dreams and magic.
Laughing At The Raging Sea is a curious box of delights. It may not be to everyone’s liking with it’s rough, raw and wholly unpolished sound but open the box and you might discover that once you’ve done so you may find it hard to close the lid again.