Up, Up And Away {Don't Look Down}

chrisweeks1020
Sep 29
9 min read

Starring

Discovery Zone, Emma Swift, The Milk, The Montgolfier Brothers, Nation of Language, Park Jima, Peki Momes

The Front Runners

The Resurrection Game : Emma Swift

Emma Swift’s first album of original songs is a wonderful record for nasty times dressed in the most sumptuous clothing. It’s an outstanding success.

Spend some time on social media (or rather, don’t) and you’ll be quickly drawn into a relentless round of horrific images and manufactured anger and hatred. It takes a toll and, musically, leads to too many jagged, harsh and ugly songs.

Emma Swift is coming to the rescue. Accept the rich beauty of her songs for a respite from the unloveliness of the world outside, even as you know that it will still be there when you leave. Listening to her songs is like coming to after a difficult operation and finding angels there to hold your hand.

This is a record that is full of meltingly gorgeous vocals and arrangements, that is rich and luxurious but also completely natural. Songs are crafted and polished to be just so, no longer capable of refinement of improvement. If she never records another song she’ll have left a legacy approaching perfection. In a world lacking the capacity to accept love, she’s directed it inward to her songs.

Her first album was a collection reinterpreting her favourite Dylan songs. She shares his facility for observations, words and expressions that pin down exactly what she wants to say. Her vocals caress songs into life, here a little tentative and vulnerable and there more certain and confident that she speaks the truth. And all the songs come to you rolling on a sea of extravagantly great melodies.

Her vocals blend the sultry and the gentle in a similar way to Norah Jones, but that’s where the resemblance ends. A broader parallel is with the magic that Rosie Carney worked with her full album cover of Radiohead’s ‘The Bends’.

Emma Swift stands up to sing about the world as it is. That’s brave and honest. She may sing about no happy endings but the experience of this record is ultimately one of joy.

Taster Track : No Happy Endings

Think Once More : The Montgolfier Brothers

This is an inconceivably good introduction to the Montgolfier Brothers and the heartbroken, aching beauty of their songs. They were Mark Tranmer (also responsible for the stunning GNAC) and Roger Quigley (drummer with a band called Lovewood. Good luck in tracking them down.) Quigley died in 2020, so unlike many compilations, this is it. It can’t be improved or updated .

Pink Floyd’s David Gilmour covered their song ‘Between Two Points’ in 2024. That was the hook that rekindled interest in the act. The crime is that they were allowed to fade away so that they could be rediscovered.

These are songs that are full of hope. Not the cheery, optimistic sense of hope that the weather will turn out fine, but the desperate hope that exists when hope is all you have left. It’s summed up in the line from ‘Between Two Points’. These are songs for when “Your guardian angel gives up the ghost.” It’s enough, just, to rescue the songs from becoming unendurable, giving a fleeting glimpse of happiness. It’s there in the careless, late arrival that ends ‘Pro-Celebrity Standing Around’.

That’s the thing about a good compilation. It can toy with your emotions in the most compelling way. The choice of ‘Even If My Mind Can’t Tell You’ to open the album is inspired. It’s obsessed, stunningly simple and beautiful. As a first introduction to their work…wow!

There’s no escaping that this is a collection of sad, heartaching songs. ‘Seventeen Stars’ is like a classic French film that devastated you even though you didn’t fully understand it. If they don't make you feel like crying, you’ve no heart.

The Montgolfier Brothers bring you the wistful hope and the crushing realisations that all is lost that you might find in the novels of Jonathan Coe and David Nicholls. Most of all they distill and intensify the emotions and feelings of the Field Mice.

Bring back the art of the properly curated compilation. And bring back The Montgolfier Brothers - as distinctive, sadly evocative and unplaceable as a trace of perfume.

Taster Track : The World Is Flat

Dance Called Memory : Nation of Language

Sooner or later, many successful synth pop acts, and a number of unsuccessful ones, feel the need to demonstrate their musical seriousness by travelling down the paths carved out by Talk Talk or Depeche Mode. Nation of Language are no exception, except that they manage the progression exceptionally well.

I hope the band feel happy inside because the prevailing tone remains worn down melancholy. It’s born of the helpless acceptance of a loss or break up that has become an aching memory rather than a raw wound. It’s also the hallmark of any synth band wishing to transition to a mature sound. (Fret not. This remains a very strong pop album, but one that has substance and feeling in its DNA.)

Ian Devaney’s vocals give the band an inbuilt advantage in travelling the Talk Talk route. They’ve become one of the defining qualities of Nation of Language. He sings with the purity of a cathedral chorister, but one who has been asked to leave because of a dedication to human concerns rather than soaring for the Heavens.

What’s noteworthy on ‘Dance Called Memory’ is the attention to the vocal arrangements overall. Aidan Noell’s backing intertwines with Devaney on ‘Silhouette’ to lovely effect. It’s one of the best songs they’ve written.

The other big asset for the band is the cold beauty of the music. It prevents a melancholy album from becoming a downer. Increasingly the music feels held in check in the way of early Gary Numan or, particularly, John Foxx. It means that when they inject a shot of energy to their music, as on ‘In Your Head’, it’s a welcome respite that refreshes everything else there.

Dance Called Memory may come to be regarded as their best album. Quite simply, they’re at the top of their game and they’re delivering accordingly.

Taster Track : Silhouette

The Chasing Pack

Quantum Web : Discovery Zone

A good day starts with music that somehow knows how you are feeling. It can serve as a reboot if needed, or as ideal preparation for the day ahead. By happy accident, I chose this 2024 release from Discovery Zone following a bad night’s sleep that left me tense and weary.

Knowing little about Discovery Zone, other than they were an electronic act, the relief brought by the emergence of the first notes was palpable. This is blissful, easy electronica for those days that require a gentle start or a rescue remedy. It’s Air on their most laidback (!) days, squared. No effort is required on your part. There’s no need to hurry through it. All is peaceful. All is well. And, crucially, all is very musical.

Don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t want to listen to this all day or even every day. There are times when the music feels drawn from the science of relaxation. It’s so perfectly pitched that deep down you wonder if algorithms are involved. You might question if there’s sufficient emotional engagement on offer to keep you interested. But, as ‘FYI’ demonstrates there are moments in your day when this is the perfect match.

Music such as ‘Qubit Lite’ floats like insubstantial gossamer, its effects laid on without a fuss. ‘Ur Eyes’ is an ambient song that feels like the sun above the clouds, a voice in your head reassuring you that all is OK. The throbbing pulse of ‘Test’ is deliciously hypnotic. Cascading synths in ‘Operating System’ will smooth away your rough edges. ‘Mall of Luv’ and ‘All Dressed Up With Nowhere To Go’, up the energy just enough to prepare you for returning to real life. The various interludes are some of the best I’ve heard on any album, like a tea break with friends before returning to enjoyable work. The vocals add to the overall vibe - pleasant but unobtrusive.

It’s a rare pleasure to find an album that can bring you back on kilter so successfully.

Taster Track : Test

Borderlands : The Milk

The Milk promise a soul funk revue. What they deliver is perfectly OK, but it’s closer to a musical version of Unigate’s finest than a pint of your party drink of choice.

I suppose that the problem is that it doesn’t excite me as I thought it would and should. It’s highly professional and relaxed, as if muscle memory is driving the songs. As a result it sounds familiar rather than fresh, a little tired despite all the elements it has brought to the party. They include backing choirs of Mike Sammes Singers soundalikes and many, many strings. It’s become a kind of orchestral soul jazz funk that wouldn’t be out of place in an LA cabaret. The sharp Mod suits that paraded on Brighton Beach are now expensive dinner jackets and bow ties for the Hollywood set.

Hollywood may be a good touchstone, signalled by the fun and imaginative choice to base the opening track, ‘I Need Your Love’, around the Pearl and Dean cinema advert theme. But successful soulful jazz funk is made for smokey, sweaty intimate clubs in Soho or New Orleans. It’s not heard at its best in Screen 3 of your out of town multiplex. There, a song like ‘Wanted Man’ is music to chatter over while the credits roll.

Of course, an alternative explanation for the sound of this album is simply that they’ve left behind youthful things, and started to fall into sentimental love. The heady rush of adrenaline that used to come from pitched battles at the seaside now comes from a racing heart triggered by the sight of the one you love.

You pays your money and you makes your choice. You can have it smooth or you can opt for the commitment, natural energy and aggression of, say, the James Taylor Quartet. It’s only on ‘Loaded Dice’ that you feel the music start to smoulder before catching fire.

Musically, there’s little to dislike here, but also less to thrill. It’s … OK.

Taster Track : Loaded Dice

All Living Things : Park Jiha.

OK. Clearly, as a man, I have never given birth. There’s not a lot I can do about that. I have been present at the birth of my three children and in the room for a number of other births via the medium of TV and ‘One Born Every Minute’. In case it counts. I’ve also been taken by surprise wandering into the TV room while countless Yorkshire vets are delivering countless Yorkshire sheep. The reason for all this oversharing will be made clear.

Korean composer, Park Jiha, has released an album celebrating new life. That may be the cue for a chorus of “Aahs” but hold them. Park Jima’, has captured the earthy messiness of birth - the blood, the glistening fluids and the bewildered,frightened first steps of an animal into life. She’s also captured the miracle of its wonder and beauty..

I haven’t mentioned plants. One of the images evoked by this music, is the screeching of plants. Something in ‘First Bud’s sound is harsh as if protesting and complaining at being dragged into life. Listening to tracks such as ‘First Buds’, ‘Bloom; and ‘Growth Ring’ you’ll find that this isn’t a soft and cosy exploration of birth and development, but it does bring with it a source of pride.

This is music that is undeniably familiar and recognisable to Western ears, but it’s also music that sounds a little different as if stretched in a dream. ‘Grounding’ uses an oddly tuned instrument like a hurdy gurdy zither.There are moments when you feel this music is a new dawn rising over an Oriental or Indian landscape, At other times you’ll find yourself questioning the music - is that a saxophone you can hear on ‘A Story of Little Birds? It feels strangely unreal as, I suppose, does birth however you look at it.

Musically you’ll need to acclimatise to it, just as you do when you hear bagpipes playing from the battlements of Edinburgh Castle. But as with the bagpipes this is music to stir deep feelings of love and pride. That’s worth having.

Taster Track : Bloom

Peki Momes : Peki Momes

This appealing album from new Turkish artist Peki Momes works on many levels. It serves as her calling card to be filed away for future reference. It offers an intriguing blend of disco, psychedelia and catchy pop. Most of all, as it progresses you realise how good it is for creating the good time vibe necessary for a great night out.

It’s not perfect. Early tracks ‘Baslangic’ and ‘Ruya’ feel like sketches for bigger works, undeniably dramatic but sounding as if they’ve stopped before they’ve really got going. Peki never set out to make music but fell into it by accident and there’s a sense that she may still be feeling her way. There are still moments when songs feel as if they are stuck in her head and not reaching out to embrace you and draw you into her world.

Be patient. This is music that enjoys flirting with you, beckoning you on and building anticipation for a great night out. Her many ideas blend into something that sounds buoyant and fresh. First you start to recognise that this is different and original. By the time you reach ‘Goc Mevsimi’ the squelchy synth and clipped guitars have brought the kind of disco funk that has you flexing your limbs in preparation for the dance floor.

‘Oyun’, ‘Masmavi’ and ‘Dertsiz Kedi’ are all milestones on a journey to relaxed, tingling anticipation. Surprises continue to delight. The flutes in ‘Future’ transport you to a new world as if leaving the city for a rave in the country. There are more psychedelic vibes in the rush of ‘Bahce’ but they’re gently done as if nudging you towards a receptive state.

This is an album that builds its effect gradually but irreversibly. You’ll warm to it as it relaxes into itself. It’s flawed, but the flaws are those that come from a surfeit of ideas and ambition. They hold the seeds of something special for the future.

For now, this is the ideal record for preparing yourself for a memorable night out.

Taster Track : Dertsiz Kedi