Some roads can lead just about anywhere.
So after Slow Club’s folksy debut ‘Yeah So’ it would have been almost impossible to have predicted ‘Complete Surrender‘.
Gone is the whimsical, playful and sometimes almost childlike indie-folk, replaced by nothing but the lushest production possible.
The album isn’t a total surprise however; sophomore effort ‘Paradise‘ hinted at their all encompassing interests, and that an ever burgeoning talent was beginning to really display just what they were capable of. It was full of adult themes and icy synths, with tracks like the soulful ‘Never Look Back‘ hinting there was even more to come.
And it is this potential that ‘Complete Surrender’ fulfills. It pushes fully into the neo-soul sound, with wonderfully lavish productions which bring to mind some truly classic songs, but it also develops the synth-soundscapes so prevalent on ‘Yeah So’. Never satisfied with pushing these new boundaries, it also harks back to the warmth of their debut.
‘Suffering You, Suffering Me‘ is musically a solid soul stomper, although the vocal performance is more akin to uptempo Belle & Sebastian or The Rumble Strips as ‘Tears Of Joy‘, the lush ‘Not Mine To Love‘ and the ballad ‘The Queen’s Nose‘ give the album its beating heart. In contrast, the title track and ‘Wandering Wanderer‘ are ice-cold, raw slices emotion. This stark contrast plays wonderfully over the course of the record, its impact fully realised by the inclusion of the beautiful and back to basics indie-folk of songs such as ‘Everything Is New‘ and ‘Number One‘ amongst others.
This juxtaposition between the tender moments, bitter moods and thoughtful reflections is where the record really comes to life. It suddenly becomes so much more than its composite parts but then, for all the production values and epic arrangements, it is when Slow Club are at their simplest that they are at their most exciting. ‘Paraguay and Panama‘ is wonderfully simple and intimate. It might not be trying to conquer the world, but its lack of ambition is never a detriment. ‘Dependable People and Things That I’m Sure Of‘ is fascinating, the track almost sounds as if it is wandering lost and directionless – despite this wistfulness it is a triumph.
Closer ‘Wanderer Wandering’ is something to behold, where so much of the ambition seems to come together, the result as ghostly and forlorn as it is beautiful and seductive. The sheer intensity of emotion is astonishing and is handled with wonderful delicacy.
There is much to love on ‘Complete Surrender’; it has an abundance of invention and inquisitiveness where even in the moments which don’t quite work, or when certain ideas miss the mark, it remains a gripping ride. Even on the few occasions where Rebecca Taylor’s vocals are slightly lost in the overly lavish arrangements, the tracks are still full of such warmth and feeling that they just sweep on by regardless.
So really it cannot be said enough: the album’s simplest moments are its most successful. Rebecca Taylor and Charles Watson have a deft and delicate touch when handling such material. For all the riches to be found in their new grown up sound, sometimes the sheer joy and wide-eyed, childlike wonder and wit of their smaller moments can rip right through the flesh to the very core.
Incisive and yearning, but always heartfelt, it is an album of wonder, wandering in and out of moments of wonderful abandon and excitement.
