Review Summary: Bliss Release will go down in Australian sonic history as the birth of a band that came from the Mountains and just kept on climbing.
Home-town pride is something not easily shaken. We all have an eternal affinity for the area in which we resided for a lengthy period. So eight months ago, when word went around my neighbourhood of the Blue Mountains (near Sydney, Australia) that a band that spawned from our very streets, Cloud Control, were putting out an album that was supposedly pretty good, I felt as though it was my duty to check out this band that had my hometown talking incessantly about this new release.
Imagine my surprise when I realised I'd been living within a few minutes of a few musical geniuses. Cloud Control have crafted an LP that will appeal to lovers of folk, pop and indie, as well those who just can't resist a catchy tune.
Meditation Song #2 (Why, Oh Why) is a perfect introduction to the album, in that it showcases many of the band's limitless talents. The reciprocity between distorted guitar and vocals perfectly exemplifies the group's ability to weave different elements in and out of each other, as this quartet, who met in the local orchestra, are perfectly in sync with one another's musical minds. This multi-faceted framework of their songs continues in
There's Nothing In The Water We Can't Fight, which constantly oscillates between jerky and smooth. A jolting bass riff leads to a fluid verse, ‘Mother Ganga take me higher,’ and the pounding chorus becomes a flowing river of tranquil, harmonising vocals.
Most of the lyrics are relatively cryptic, but usually hold just enough relevance to the basic ideas as hinted at by the song titles. The line 'I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up' in the eerie
Ghost Story is a standout, and is one that can't possibly not be chanted along with.
What will become glaringly obvious after a few listens is just how excessively easy this album is to sing along to. Whether this is because of their church background (as church songs typically cater for all vocal ranges) I'm not sure, but I do know that it's remarkably difficult not to join in with vocalist Alistair Wright as he offers to 'buy you a gold canary' and questions the 'tangible chill in the air' in pop gems
Gold Canary and
This Is What I Said. The former sounds somewhat sonically restrained initially, but is let out of the cage in the second half of the song, with the concluding guitar conjuring the image of a canary flying off into a sunset. Corny, I know, but darned effective.
Just For Now marks a more chilled turning point for the LP, as acoustic guitar and crooning harmonies lead into seemingly-nonchalant use of the ride cymbal, which combines beautifully with Jeremy Kelshaw's saltating bass line. Next, on an album full of highlights, comes the track that sounds least like the others. Surely that would mean it’s the weakest track, then? On the contrary. Blending psychedelia with pop,
The Rolling Stone peaks when a resounding ‘Whoop’ fuses together the effervescent bass with the chorus, which contrasts perfectly with the droning verses. And yes, Cloud Control have added another shade to their musical pallette.
The soft, acoustic
Hollow Drums provides a welcome change, and leads into the antithetical
My Fear #2. This track again features prominent bass, which dictates this standout song as it returns to the upbeat, infectious nature of the album's earlier tracks. Final song
Beast Of Love is probably the weakest song of the set, yet is in no way a poor track; it is only the weakest due to the incessant quality that defines this album.
I really don't see how anyone could listen to this and not be instantly enamoured by the vast array of musical talent and maturity that is on offer here. Bliss Release will go down in Australian sonic history as the birth of a band that came from the Mountains and just kept on climbing.
