Van Morrison's's "astral weeks" has come to signify a soulful impressionism that wells up from sources Wordsworth deemed "too deep for tears." Every note Nick Drake recorded before his accidental overdose in 1974 throbs with similar aching beauty. Morning-glory vocals, couplets of such Elizabethan elegance as "Open up the broken cup/Let goodly sin and sunshine in" and arrangements that wed jazz freedom to the dignity of string quartets make his music – part folk song, part art song – incandescent. Working a single mood almost exclusively – ecstatic yearning – Drake captures in songs like "Northern Sky" and "Time of No Reply" moments of uncanny grace.
violin, trumpet, vibe and bassoon, Tindersticks' nearly 80-minute debut is mood music of a more anxious variety than Drake's. From Nottingham, England, the sextet overlays Stuart Staples' espresso-dark vocals with rough, rich texture. Their best tunes – "City Sickness," "Nectar," "Jism" – glimmer like dreams. (RS 698/699)
PAUL CORIO
The Tindersticks' debut opens on a note of happiness, but it soon digs down into the depths of despair and debauchery. Singer Stuart Staples sounds like he's narrating a series of subterranean adventures involving drunken, menacing bullfighters. The group's wealth of orchestration is rougher here -- not as focused as they would normally be, but no less emotional.
If their debut didn't blow you away, this follow-up almost assuredly did. It's a daunting, haunting release on which incredibly lush passages segue into pathos and kitchen sink drama. Stuart Staples' voice is deep and unsettling on dark, obsessed narratives such as "My Sister" and "Tiny Tears," but the music is as florid and polished as any Technicolor symphony.
