Given that it was smothered by grunge and then shattered by Britpop, it was always likely that the introverted, noise-for-noise sake Shoegaze movement would take a longer period than most to recover from near extinction.
Eventually (inevitably) green shoots of recovery arrived – scene progenitors My Bloody Valentine blazing a fresh trail of tinnitus causing mayhem – but also resurrection came through the effervescence of a small but fiercely dedicated set of grass roots activists, many of whom weren’t even born when MBV’s definitive Loveless album was released in 1991.
If at its peak the genre embraced such a ridiculous notion as poster boys, Ride were unquestionably they. The Oxford quartet rose to prominence by confining some of their contemporaries’ sonic excesses, and on pivotal release Going Blank Again they willingly took an often maligned, stubbornly niche musical proposition to the fringes of the mainstream.
Lauded, the fickleness of public and critical tastes resulted in the briefest of Nevermind-blighted honeymoons and, despite a more panoramic follow up in Carnival of Light, 1996’s Tarantula was the quartet’s last release before they imploded, singer Mark Gardener abruptly walking out during a band meeting. As time went by, more than with many other splits a latent bitterness seemingly remained; shrugging off his initial shock, co-songwriter Andy Bell formed Hurricane #1 before eventually joining Oasis and then moving on to Liam Gallagher’s Marmite effigy Beady Eye.
And then hey presto.
With hatchets apparently buried, the twenty first century Ride reformed in 2014, ostensibly just to play a handful of dates. Rather than resting on their laurels however, drummer Loz Colbert recently admitted that in secret the foursome had almost simultaneously gone into the Vale studio in Oxfordshire to begin work on what would become Weather Diaries, their fifth album.
Recorded with DJ/producer Erol Alkan and long term collaborator Alan Mulder, it’s immediately evident that this is a release on which few regrets were harboured: opener Lannoy Point throbs into existence by filtering through drained atmospherics, brooding before Gardener’s picked notes chime with stacked reverb and quiet-loud swells like waves.
An angry statement on chaotic times, this newly found skill for polemicising continues on Charm Assault, the lyrics a condemnation of Harridan politicians and their ethic-free circus, the music a churning pedal fest that bridges the gap between Tarantula’s trad-rock and the Smiths-inspired riffola of their vintage EPs.
What follows drops its cap in many places. On Home Is A Feeling, Gardener re-imagines the euphoric drone much practiced by keepers of the Shoegaze flame, whilst the garage rock pile driving of Lateral Alice is controlled fun but not much more, and Impermanence evokes The Stone Roses at their most throw away and sentimental.
Whether intentional or not, Alkan’s prompts and feints add a dimension a less ambitious choice of collaborator would surely have failed to yield. All I Want’s cut up vocals herald this astute shaping, its modernity sincere, whilst latterly the product of spontaneous jamming, the skylit flight of Integration Tape lingers in the same vein as Brian Eno’s nu symphonia. Less obvious but more fundamental is his contribution to the title track, seven minutes of this old/new incarnation in more epic mode with each release after crescendoing release, a new benchmark inspired by what Colbert describes as the band being ‘conducted’ by their erstwhile producer.
For a collection of songs which begin in shimmering rebirth, Weather Diaries closes in the plaintive reflectiveness of White Sands, in substance little more than a few picked chords, Gardener moodily proclaiming, “We always betray ourselves…we came the long way round”. The lines are the prose of a group who have worn away regret and come out swinging, ready to learn from the past whilst willingly being a part of now.
Taking on all comers, Ride have proven they’re still lightning in a bottle.
