Review Summary: An emotive, deeply personal masterpiece.
Occasionally, if you’re lucky, an album comes along that truly floors you. It takes a stroke of serendipity sure, a fortunate synergy of music and personal circumstance. When it happens it feels nothing short of breathtaking. In 2016, the Dublin-based band
Overhead, the Albatross swooped in with their debut album,
Learning to Growl. It remains a vivacious and bright album full of confidence, experimentation and talent. A not-insignificant eight years later, after a lengthy drip-feed of quality singles, the group have returned with
I Leave You This, an hour-long journey through all the colour that life has to offer.
When there is such a gap between a debut and a follow-up album, life events can shape the latter more acutely. Families contract and expand through loss and birth, people grow and mature alongside a world that continues to provide ample inspiration for art, for better or worse. Through an electronic-tinted lens of progressive rock,
Overhead, the Albatross navigate love, loss, tension and release beautifully, resulting in a record that feels deeply personal.
I Leave You This is bookended by two shorter tracks, titled "A Letter" and "A Letter 2", with the former providing life advice to the band’s children and the latter sampling a recital of a Filipino folk tale. It’s not the only track to feature a strong Filipino influence, with "Miss Na Kita" featuring the ‘Pabasa ng pasyo’ chant alongside busy drumming provided by the traditional 'kulintang' percussive instrument.
Spoken-word chants and samples weave their way through this record, providing an emotive commentary on life, death and the human spirit. If anything will divide opinion on
I Leave You This, it is these samples. The deeper cuts require repeated listening; I found many of the spoken-word eulogies to be more affecting after multiple listens as they resonated in my subconscious. "Your Last Breath" and "Paul Lynch" both deal with connection and loss, with the latter particularly poignant. Dedicated to a long-time friend who passed away during the recording of the album, the closing chant powers through the climax of the song and leaves a lasting impression.
Not that
I Leave You This is depressing in any way, it’s simply personal and emotive. There’s a celebration and joy of life present throughout the record, with the subjects of love and resilience just as prominent. "This is Like Love" is a whirlwind of layers, with Hindi vocal samples skitting across a pulsating beat and dancing electronics. "L’appel du Vide" answers the call of the void with an infectious energy and a stunning climax, while "At Sea" responds to despair with a beautiful and hopeful coda reminiscent of
BRUIT at their most cinematic.
And there it is, the message of hope. A necessity in such a deep and introspective record to prevent the moments of wonder being overshadowed by gloom. Perhaps the best example of this balance is the nine-minute centrepiece, "Hibakusha", named after the survivors of the nuclear bombings in Japan. The track is a triumph of mathy, post-metal energy and without doubt the heaviest track
Overhead, the Albatross have written. The spoken-word sample in Japanese that closes the track recalls the message of hope and optimism; a nice juxtaposition to the fury that precedes it.
Overhead, the Albatross feel like a band reborn with
I Leave You This. Eight years might have passed since
Learning to Growl but in that time the band’s songcraft and confidence has only improved, resulting in a monumental record that surprises at every turn. Therein lies the band’s greatest strength, to bring together such a varied mix of emotions, genres and influences in a way that isn’t tasteless or forced. It’s magnificent.
