Review Summary: Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Half-light
It’s hard to believe but the last time we heard from The Bathers was back in 1999 with the release of their most consciously mature (and some might say ‘good but still somewhat less impressive’) set, ‘Pandemonia’. Which is not to say the long awaited seventh album ‘Sirenesque’ has come from out of nowhere as such, frontman Chris Thomson has been dusting through the archives and even re-imagining (sometimes re-recording) old material over the last decade, and the band have just started touring again. His reasoning is the children are now fully grown and have flown, so he’s been priming himself for a return and now the time has come; that’s sound logic, but as always in these cases the big question is…’have you still got it?’.
‘Sirenesque’ answers any and all doubts in emphatic style and hardly misses a beat following ‘Pandemonia’; this is similar in style, mature as stated before, but here (and this is important) the romance has returned to the levels found on the classic ‘Marina Trilogy’ of mid ‘90s releases. Big props to the Scottish Session Orchestra who in some ways dominate the musical side of the album, as ‘Sirenesque’ is positively symphonic, the most sweeping and orchestral of all this band’s work.
The other dominant element here is of course Thomsons ‘grizzled yet delicate’ vocal that at times recalls Bowie’s ‘Blackstar’ performance; similarly his singing leans towards the theatrical, and is often ‘actorly’ in its approach. Make no mistake this is a phenomenal return from Thomson as he rolls back the (count them) twenty three years and to my ears puts in a far more nuanced and engaging performance than on ‘Pandemonia’. It’s a case of the man’s age catching up with his voice as he’s always sounded older than his years; his inclination towards reminiscence and nostalgia making all the more sense now.
As before, Bathers lyrics always settle on the romance of, yes, people - but also place and time. Even back on ‘Sunpowder’ or ‘Kelvingrove Baby’ as a relatively young man Thomson was already keenly aware of the nature of time, that a nostalgic aftermath would follow each and every romantic tryst, and these would eventually become memories locked to the geography of Glasgow. The imagery here is possibly the strongest on any Bathers release, the passing years only adding to the bittersweet emotion of recalling these moments; at times you feel this could almost be a painful exercise.
There are highlights here, usually the longer tracks, but really this is such an obvious ‘all of a piece’ work it feels unnecessary to pick apart individual songs or lyrics; imagery and motifs repeat, melodies flow into each other with a natural ease. A window into another world, one that can’t help but cast a glow of fading golden sunlight over your own surroundings as you listen, but even more so over your own memories.
