I don’t know how these guys keep putting out records, it’s all done very quietly, silent rumbles from the North of England. But I hope they don’t get dropped. When I first discovered The Coral it was through either Q Magazine or Mojo, I was reading both at the time; trust me Q was a good magazine, and Bono wasn’t on the cover every few months. (Mai știți, mergeam acum câțiva ani după reviste de muzică la preț redus, la chioșcul din Gara de Nord special, și ieșeam de acolo cu 3-4 într-o lună bună. Încă recomand oricui Mojo.)
Nothing seems right except for the music at night. Voices clutching to guitars and lyrics weaving stories. Although there’s a tendency to mourn, and it’s this sorrow that I like against my will, the minor chords slip into light, like a yellow chick fighting its destiny and trying to soar several centimetres off the ground. Crying girls, conspicuous girls, the moon, even a song about me (Jacqueline), and then girls. It makes me feel like an inspid unfeeling twig, listening to the hyperemotion coming out of James Skelly‘s throat.
You can’t feel free or happy listening to this, it’s actually quite tiring if you let yourself sink in the atmosphere, be it typically melancholy or a bit more folko-jitterbuggy, but there’s relief coming from the greyish sun rising above with plenty of sentiment.
They’ve got a gig at the Electric Proms on the 24th of October so I would go see that 😉