Music: Guillemots - Through the Windowpane

Guillemots
Through The Windowpane
[Indie Pop]






It’s nearly that time of year when Top Figures in the British Music Industry listen to Radio 1 for a couple of hours, have a brief chat with Edith Bowman and then decide on the best British album of the past twelve months. While it is traditionally billed as an “alternative” award, the Mercury Music Prize often features nominations that appear to be selected purely on sales figures. In fact, some years it even feels as though the judges can’t think up enough worthy artists to make up the shortlist, for example the puzzling choice of Editors this year.

However, I happen to have some good news for the industry men – this year there is no need for a competition. That’s right guys and gals, we shouldn't fear another debacle of Miss Dynamite proportions; Guillemots have the competition so far beaten it would be embarrassing to perceive of another winner.

I cannot remember enjoying a debut album as much as Through The Windowpane. From its rich samba freak outs to more purer forms of song writing, it is a clear winner across the board. What’s immediately welcome is that chief Mot Fyfe Dangerfield eschews the current trend of half-baked Mike Skinnerisms in his lyrics, instead choosing to write in a more traditional style. Themes of existentialism are especially prominent, leading to some truly moving moments, such as the following (rather long) excerpt from “Trains To Brazil”. “And to those of you who mourn your lives from one day to the next / Well let them take you next / Can’t you just be thankful you’re here? / It could be you tomorrow or next year”. Accompanied with the typically desperate, clinging-on-for-dear-life vocals, it certainly trumps “Well ah met a feller down t’pub…”

There’s also room for plenty of dark humour, too, with killer lines such as “I bank all my dreams on an earthquake” and “There’s poetry in an empty coke can” rife throughout. The lyrics are of such a high standard that it is a genuine surprise when Dangerfield utters the clanger “If I had you / All the stars wouldn’t fall from the sky / And the moon wouldn’t start to cry”. However, he delivers the line with such Yorkian pathos that it doesn’t feel as contrived as it perhaps should.

Having a classically trained vocalist and cellist in the band is obviously going to put significant pressure on the music, and this is where Through The Windowpane really earns its stripes. After all, anyone can write about love, right? From dizzyingly complex, multi-instrument arrangements (“Made-Up Lovesong #43”) to the subtlest ever use of organ, strings and ambient noise (“If The World Ends”, “Little Bear”), it is clear the album’s apparently big budget has not gone to waste. Yet at no point does the album sound over-produced, retaining a warmth and humanity that is only usually accustomed to a lone man with a guitar.

As well as recent single “Trains To Brazil”, many numbers have a bruising momentum that is just plain funky. “We’re Here” and “Annie, Let’s Not Wait” have real bite, the latter employing 80s cheese synth, groovy bass, banjo and smiley piano to make it irresistibly danceable. In contrast, Guillemots aren’t afraid to use silence as an important instrument in their songs. “Little Bear” and “Blue Would Still Be Blue” in particular aren’t afraid to leave a sizeable volume of empty space to emphasise the teary words.

Album closer “Sao Paulo” deserves a paragraph all of its own, and that’s exactly what it’s going to get. A twelve minute, brooding, indulgent, musical rollercoaster of a masterpiece, it flies the flag defiantly against edgy guitars, post-post-punk and the twenty-first century in general. Beginning with a simple piano backdrop, Dangerfield tells a traveller’s tale reminiscent of “Bob Dylan’s 115th Dream” before strings leap in and blow the mind. “Sometimes I could drop my bags and run for miles / Sometimes I could live nine lives / But I won’t” is one of many standout lines as the first part of the arrangement fades out to a wall of distorted screaming. The song then engulfs its subject matter and begins five minutes of pure samba madness as the listener is warned against doctors, lovers, soldiers, lawyers and more. I defy anyone not to like this song.

So, whether floating on the catchiest of pop melodies of attempting something that little bit different, Guillemots clearly have what it takes musically and lyrically. Their biggest challenge comes when they are expected to build on this astounding effort in eighteen months time. For now though, we should let them bask in the glory of Through The Windowpane. The biggest threat to their success will come should they act violently when Muse snatch the Mercury prize and talk about changing the face of music… 91