Album opener Crystal Visions sets the scene straight away, beginning with psychedelic, twinkling-in-the-sunset lead guitar that would sit happily anywhere on The Verve’s Storm in Heaven. Then Milo Cordell pushes the red button and the track suddenly lurches into a wide-eyed, fringe-flicking groove, MBV guitars haemorrhage in the background whilst Robbie Furze’s chanting channels the cool detachment of Jason Pierce. The punctual Too Young To Love clatters in immediately afterwards, with a beat which sounds a lot like the one from Boards Of Canada’s Kid For Today, but at ten times the speed with added JAMC squall and Happy Mondays swagger. The slightly less exhilarating but just as infectious recent single Dominos is up next, which brings to mind early Secret Machines.
On the title track the band deploy some breathy female vocals; Furze and Joanne Robertson exchange mantras during this gorgeous, feedback-drenched lullaby. Imagine Ian McCulloch and Hope Sandoval trying to hypnotise each other in the front row of a Telescopes concert. Frisk and Count Backwards From Ten showcase The Big Pink’s skilful way in which they fuse fuzzed-up guitars and pulsing electronica, keeping the music organic enough to avoid sounding clinical, and the latter track’s leering drone closes the album.
The Big Pink are a band who wear their influences clearly on their sleeves, so much so that this album could have been called A Brief History of British Indie Circa 1990. As with a lot of music of this ilk, the lyrics are murky and at times too self conscious. This is something typical of the shoe-gaze genre though, a scene where an other-worldly aloofness is almost expected. Many of the words murmured on this album feel functional, simply there to fit the melody. But, keeping things simple but effective seems to be The Big Pink’s general rule of thumb. One could argue that The Big Pink’s influences are obvious, but as the talented duo have cherry-picked only fantastic influences to throw into the mix, they’ve produced album that is up there with the best that their direct musical ancestors have to offer. A Brief History of Love is a more than welcome addition to the ongoing dream-pop revival.
On the title track the band deploy some breathy female vocals; Furze and Joanne Robertson exchange mantras during this gorgeous, feedback-drenched lullaby. Imagine Ian McCulloch and Hope Sandoval trying to hypnotise each other in the front row of a Telescopes concert. Frisk and Count Backwards From Ten showcase The Big Pink’s skilful way in which they fuse fuzzed-up guitars and pulsing electronica, keeping the music organic enough to avoid sounding clinical, and the latter track’s leering drone closes the album.
The Big Pink are a band who wear their influences clearly on their sleeves, so much so that this album could have been called A Brief History of British Indie Circa 1990. As with a lot of music of this ilk, the lyrics are murky and at times too self conscious. This is something typical of the shoe-gaze genre though, a scene where an other-worldly aloofness is almost expected. Many of the words murmured on this album feel functional, simply there to fit the melody. But, keeping things simple but effective seems to be The Big Pink’s general rule of thumb. One could argue that The Big Pink’s influences are obvious, but as the talented duo have cherry-picked only fantastic influences to throw into the mix, they’ve produced album that is up there with the best that their direct musical ancestors have to offer. A Brief History of Love is a more than welcome addition to the ongoing dream-pop revival.