Review Summary: A wave of many rivers
Blur guitarist Graham Coxon and singer-songwriter Rose Elinor Dougall met in December 2020 in one of London’s cafes, where Coxon was performing. With time this meeting turned into a serious relationship – the couple even has a daughter. In addition, the two musicians also conceived a new project, The Waeve.
The duo’s name was inspired by an old English spelling of the word “sea” as “S-A-E”, hinting at both the influence of English folk music and water-related lyrics. To get an idea of what the album might sound like, take a look at some of the musical inspirations –
Talk Talk,
King Crimson,
Gong,
Irma Thomas,
Van der Graaf Generator,
Broadcast,
Fairport Convention.
The Waeve mixes and arranges in various proportions new wave, folk, soul, art pop, avant-garde, progressive rock, psychedelia and jazz. At first glance, it might feel like a riot of color. However, this concoction is neatly packaged into 10 tracks, each averaging 4 to 6 minutes.
All the peculiarity and thoughtfulness behind the work done on mixing said genres can be easily appreciated on the opening
Can I Call You. The rippling rhythm section and the ringing of the cymbals are cut with keyboard strikes followed by the soulful and ethereal vocals of Dougall. Then, the nervous weeping of the electric guitar forces its way into the song to be later interrupted by the wail of a saxophone (an instrument Coxon is classically trained in). Male vocals join in, and two voices sing in unison as if chanting an incantation.
This vocal pairing gives the album another fascinating dimension. While Coxon’s vocals sound more grounded, pulling the overall mood down and adding a dash of mundaneness and madness, Dougall’s impressive soprano lifts everything way up, substantially expanding the horizons.
Over and Over is a very good example.
What follows is a string of atmospheric cuts: the pulsating and hypnotic
Kill Me Again, and the gradually expanding
Sleepwalking.
Someone Up There demonstrates a curious turn towards stylistic experiments, calling to mind
David Bowie of his
Outside period. Yet starting with the fifth cut the duo begins to shift towards confusing improvisation. Psychedelic jazz takes over, leading to a somewhat exhausting listening experience. This also leads to the second half of the album starting to drag, as the songs lack certain dynamic momentum while the musicians continue to be enamored with the progressive forms. The strongest cut here is
Alone and Free, simultaneously lulling and majestic; despite being rather motionless, it possesses a certain hidden strength.
The album ends with its simplest and, because of that, quite pleasant
You're All I Want to Know. While one can identify a smidge of conventionality and triteness in it, the guitar lines towards the song’s finale manage to lift and carry the cut, and the strings provide it with additional charm. It also manages to correct the course of
The Waeve and finish the album on a high note.
As for the duo, the album presents a promising and intriguing debut, coloring Coxon’s solo output with new shades of versatility.
