With a name that goes way beyond the tawdry and boring facility of many bands naming themselves after silly things (the Cars, Asia, The Cranberries, Meatloaf etc…), multi-instrumentalists Malcolm Galloway and Mark Gatland equally endeavour to forge stories that leave daily routine woes far behind in the rear-view mirror. Yet, science fiction can be quite the daunting task, especially in a historical sense. Tackling quantum physics is a giant leap from “Rock me Baby”, yet having a mathematical mind or an algebraic ear is not required to delight in this concept album based on the 1927 theoretical principle first developed by Werner Heisenberg. So as with many concept albums, one can always decide to look up the context in full detail, in order to better grasp the infinitely atomic details of the story about to unfold.
Perhaps it’s a natural reaction to start from “Certainty”, leading either to some form of confirmation or the polar opposite, the bewilderment of blind acceptance. The ambient nature can be found in the insistent piano motif that seeks to hypnotize the belief, the swirling keyboard convolutions initiating the onset of potential doubt and the tormented voice teeming with unease. One thing is ‘certain’, it establishes the mood with ominous foreboding and suppressed insecurity.
Launched into the black hole maelstrom with raggedy alpha guitar cuts and a percolating graphite bass undertow, shorting out the melting Geiger counter on “Everything Changed”, the atmosphere begins to overheat, and the control rods begin to tremble, a surefire sign of imminent danger. It’s a ragged, raging and engaging sonic tremor that has a doomsday essence, a punkish attack the shows no mercy, and an oblique and sombre piano finale that explains the title to the fullest. Maintaining the brutality, “The Ultraviolet Catastrophe” unfurls like a strident cry for understanding the scope, screeching guitars and schizoid piano intermingle like atoms in a microscope, unsure what will happen next.
Home of the little Langelinie mermaid, “Copenhagen” has a dreamy sensibility that rekindles images of The Church and its Milky Way thingy, acoustic guitars, robust bass and Malcolm’s forlorn vocalizations that drip with hushed despair. The lead guitar strives for clarity, as if unsure how and where to proceed next. ‘Limitless perfection, uncertain foundations’ surely express the angst within the grooves. Superb track.
The entire element table is to be found sonically on “Cause and Effect (But Not Necessarily in That Order)”, a musical formula blending jazz, stingy isotope guitar riffing, dissonant percussive zeal, electronic space oddity and a fair amount of quark, strangeness and charm. Only a sedate synthesizer solo seems to quiet the cyclonic swirl within the flying teapot, a petulant piano section driving the insanity ever so beyond. Hectic, oddball and highly unconventional , as would befit the persona of any nuclear physicist.
Please forgive the overt pun, but with the title track, we dive deep into the fissionable “core” , a fossil fuel psychedelic reverie that makes one wonder what truly lies on the dark side of science. The vocal performance has gravitas and ardor as it dwells in the psychosis of confusion, a demanding challenge to listen to and follow, yet the music asserts an unstable eccentricity, verging on hysteria and disbelief, finalized by comfortable sonic numbness.
Bubbling frantically, “Inside the Atom” is where the critical mass lies, an elaborate piano versus clanging electric guitar interaction that shuffles along at breakneck velocity. The arpeggiated ebb and flow is insane, like millions of molecules fighting for survival, the streamlined electric guitars yeaning for exposure, dominating the fissile discourse. Fans of recent King Crimson will find much to luxuriate in this fizzy laboratory concoction, densely layered yet undeniably melodic is some unscientific manner.
The first notes of “Think Tank” sounded to me like a speeding soundtrack of some future sci-fi Bond flick, dry martini replaced by milkshake (signs of the times!) and a rather rambunctious slithering that could have been a Bauhaus piece revisited. Malcolm sings as if Bela Lugosi just died, exalted by ‘the games we play’, a harrowing doom-laden organ shoving in the stake. The next track is a pure segue, the atmosphere fully retained, I daresay heightened, the gloom overt and despondent, utter confusion now dictating the pace. The frazzled fretboard solo is agony and anguish; all bundled in one pressurized reactor.
A melodic transition is apparent on “Between Two Worlds”, a desperately soft tissue reflection that sounds more like an intimate eulogy, where voice, piano and orchestration sustain the mass. An introspective reflection on inner turmoil, expertly sung and a highlight moment of beauty on an otherwise angst-ridden album.
In order to seal the sarcophagus, the stunning finale is nothing more than sonic maintenance,” Living with Uncertainty” could easily win the slogan of the year contest and yet, one can extirpate a semblance of hope, as history has proven over and over, our existence always seems to spring eternal. Someone, somewhere in summertime.
4.5 simple minds