LAUGHING STOCK (NORWAY) Shelter
The Norwegian trio is back with another quirky slice of musical exuberance, loving all their previous albums, though I must say I was worried about 2023’s “Songs of the Future” that just did not float my boat, even after numerous attempts. “Shelter” on the other hand, just might be their finest release yet, a darker and more organic presentation with an obvious concept that ties the songs together.
The sombre mood is evident with the raspy guitars of “A New Home”, I actually thought for a second this was Neil Young playing, a clanging introduction that abruptly transitions into a dreamy and soporific vocal section, tingling piano and a light yet bluesy lead guitar outbreak before diving back into a fretboard sandstorm with arid intonations, evoking some faraway shelter from the savage squalls. Speaking of “Shelter”, the concept further evolves into a sullen, almost deferential lament of eerie proportions, with a disillusioned voice flush with a sense of isolation and surrender. The melody is highly cinematographic, increasingly gloomy with a repetitive melody that heightens into a bombastic epiphany of sound and fury.
Change of pace on the initially bucolic and wistful “Roots Go Deeply”, a descent into a reckless blend of tender and stark riffs, the electric guitars engaging in bitter tones, best expressed by a blitzkrieg solo that slithers onwards like a resolute viper looking for prey. A serene orchestration further confounds the listener with an unexpected flute outburst, and the piece veers into the earth from where it perhaps once appeared. Proving the concept point, the vaporous “In You” reignites the shelter theme, a decidedly melancholic vocal, forlorn drum beat in the background and an echoing 6 stringed axe swirl. The fog dissipates, swept away by a blast of coarse grooves, the distant ‘guiding light’ choir-like vocals plaintive and desperate. Excellent continuance.
The grand piano is in the spotlight, expressing the fluid expression of a “Waterfall”, vivid guitar pearls flowing majestically into the bubbling pool below, observant birds chirping at the spectacle. Perhaps the ideal set-up for the highlight track here, the incredibly attractive “Sticks and Stones”, a noticeably Floydian organ leading the way, crowned by sorrowful vocal melody that spellbinds from the outset, both cosmic and convincing, sliced by a swooning Gilmourian phrasing straight out of that classic canon. This is one hell of a track…” leaving the darkness, beeee-hind”!
A lighter moment comes with “Radio”, a simple, sunshiny ballad that looks back at a time when radio was the main source of information, musically or otherwise, that was made available to the multitudes, before the arrival of television. The vocal has a vintage Roxy Music feel, elegant, unhurried and pensive, dialed in through a fluttering organ and distant drums.
In an utterly astonishing twist, the final two tracks offer a dozen minutes of Tim Bowness, a distinctive voice that is immediately recognizable. “The Flood” is the longest track here, zeroing in on 8 minutes of cleverly constructed music, peaks and valleys of shifting atmospheres, from death-defying guitar and bass cliffs, stop-on-a-dime breaks, to ambient soundscapes that shimmer in hazy silence, Tim’s hushed voice enters at the mid-way point, piano used as sonic muscle and also features a magnificent trumpet solo from Terje Johannessen to elevate the mood into the wild blue yonder.
As a most welcome bonus track not featured on the LP, “Memories” is a fitting finale, with Bowness once again most convincing on the microphone, a more concise reprise of the previous number, with a focus on the vocal and the piano, both presented in a more naked environment.
A rewarding listen that will surely please the more romantically tinged prog heads out there.
4.5 asylums
