Cocteau Twins
REVIEWS
- GARLANDS
- TREASURE
GARLANDS, (1982)
Rating: 6
Best Songs- But I'm Not
Worst Song- Blind Dumb Deaf... maybe
The first and least attractive of the Twins offerings. Post-punk at its slowest and bleakest. Yet there's already something utterly special under all that darkness.
Written by Ian Allcock
When the Cocteau Twins got started, they probably weren't
anyone's bet to achieve lasting indie recognition, let alone a hit just two
albums later on the 4AD label. Here you had two scruffy Scottish guys: Will
Heggie playing gloomy, gothic sounding bass lines a la Joy Division, and Robin
Guthrie, a guitarist with a love for cascading, feedback drenched riffs not
unlike those heard on PIL's "Second Edition" LP. In front was Liz Fraser,
an awkward, barely on key vocalist with a habit of singing unintelligible
lyrics in falsetto and giving strange tremulous wails at the end of each line.
All this to a series of primitive drum machine rhythms completed the band's
ultra-repetitive brand of goth-rock. Ironically, the band DID garner significant
notice, albeit on the British independant charts' top ten only . In retrospect,
its hard to see what the fuss was all about: this really is a period piece
of Post-Punk, and unrecognizable as the same band that produced such beautiful
work less than a decade later. Still, there is an undefinable something that
very nearly makes Garlands listenable, even compelling.
For the most part, it almost isn't possible to describe the individual tracks
as they all meet the criteria above. Every song is played and sung around
a dance beat grindingly repeated by the afore mentioned drum machine. Sometimes
the band vamps over a single chord or riff before the actual song begins as
in "Blood Bitch". Sometimes there is a little mid-song jam with tons of feedback
and the odd sound effect as in "The Hollow Men". Liz even repeats the central
line of a few songs in hellish sing-song ("Wax and Wane", "Garlands"). This
last device actually adds a hypnotic quality and makes these tracks stand
out above the pack even if the mood never changes. My personal favorite, as
mentioned above is "But I'm Not" with its shrieking chorus after a slow build-up
and scary bubbling guitar effects at the beginning, though almost any other
track would apply equally. The only ones that really bother me are those that
seriously lack a reasonable melody to go with the mood ("Blind Dumb Deaf"
is especially guilty, and "Hollow Men"). Come to think of it, that may be
what I like so much here: despite all its problems, there are definitely melodies
present and good, unique melodies at that. Guitar noise never becomes so overbearing
that it destroys the fragile balance either: it just drifts along with everything
else. Therefore, I'm inclined to rate Garlands more as a curio of an excellent
band's career than the disaster it could have been. They had to start somewhere,
and soon the influences heard here would (luckily) disappear without a trace,
paving the way for far more adventurous things.
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HEAD OVER HEELS, 1983
Overall Rating: 7.5
Best Song: Musette And Drums
Worst Song: My Love Paramour
Their first experimental LP, full to the brim with adventurous oddity. Still,
these sonic gems are too unpolished for greatness.
Written by: Ian Allcock
Well, so much for generic post-punk. Will Heggie's gone permanently
(he grew weary of touring outside Scotland), leaving Liz and Robin to their
own devices with little cash, no place to stay, and plenty of pressure to
follow up on the moderate success of their debut. Being in such an insecure
position, they relocate to London and begin recording very spontaneously,
whenever they can and with whatever ideas come to them. Therefore, it comes
as no surprise that the results are more than a little unfocused albiet in
a creative way. It sounds like the band is trying to work in about fifteen
different genres throughout the entire album: metal, ambient, jazz, cabaret,
post-punk, Indian-style droning, and that's just for starters. The production
is markedly harsh, with too much reverb on almost everything and Liz's delivery
full of brassy force. In fact, Head Over Heels is probably the most intense
thing the Twins have yet released: each song has a sense of real heat and
conflict due to its sheer overcrowdedness. Yet, again the CT's melodic instinct
saves them from unlistenability, giving this experiment a special sort of
charm while conveying a much better sense of their overall talent. Critics
started to pick up here too, and pointed to the Cocteau's as one of Britain's
most promising musical up and comers. Too bad what you actually LIKE in this
mishmash is so hard to figure out.
And what can I say? Personally, I find almost everything here palatable but
only when I'm in the mood. The first side has more conventional numbers like
"In Our Angelhood", a straightforward new wave/punk-style tune that speeds
along quite catchily over Banshees-like harmonies. "Sugar Hiccup" is the only
preview of things to come and sounds positively joyous in washes of Robin's
chiming guitar while Liz belts more convincingly than ever before. There's
more gloomy, bass-heavy post-punk on "Five Ten Fiftyfold" too. Actually, its
interesting how all three of these and others feature very prominent bass
work despite Heggie being totally uninvolved. If I'd not been told otherwise,
I'd say that Simon Raymonde was already backing the band. One way or another,
the "normal" stuff ends here. Only "Multifoiled" even comes close to being
melodic in the common sense of that word and even here you're faced with jazz
scat singing, synth galore, and a drum machine pounding so hard underneath
that it sounds like a basketball being bounced noisily.
As for the rest, I wish I could explain the sound adequately, but there's
really no way. "Glass Candle Grenades", "The Tinderbox (Of A Heart)", and
"When Moma Was Moth" all can be called mood pieces in that they use long series'
of uncatchy musical themes and progressively develop them to produce an overall
feel of bleak anger. "Tinderbox" sounds kinda eastern, while "Glass" is more
like noise rock. "My Love Paramour" is sort of like heavy metal, but never
really finds a center and just sort of rambles from one transformation of
the main tune to the next, Liz's voice painfully dissonant all the while.
"Musette And Drums" comes last and offers a much greater sense of direction
than most of the second side by giving all Robin's dense feedback a lumbering,
crushingly heavy rhythm to work with and roiling with ferocious energy till
it suddenly becomes quiet, providing time for a unique guitar solo that puts
off some serious building tension.
And there it ends. The tension and anxiety never really dissipate or go away,
only adding to the feeling of "what the heck was that?" I'm always left with
at about this point. In the way of an answer, many may be given. Historically,
Head Over Heels is significant as it comes from the turning point at which
post-punk vanished and metamorphosed into several genres. Hints of shoegazing,
dream pop, noise rock, etc. can all be heard here in underdeveloped form though
none come to full fruition. This particular version of said change is unique
but unexceptional by comparison to the Twins later albums (to say nothing
of other artist's takes on such material), but it's very good nonetheless.
It's also the first full LP to reveal that the Twins could produce an original
identity and esthetic in album form. Even if nearly every style here was ultimately
scrapped, it was a growing experience the band needed and one that would prepare
them for equally drastic future departures.
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TREASURE, 1984
Overall Rating: 8.5
Best Song: Donimo
Worst Song: Persephone
Their second experimental album and one of euro-pop's greater curiosities. Say hello to the "ethereal" Twins...
Written by Ian Allcock ...
And goodbye to the "rocking" Twins once and for all. No more gritty distortion, no more dissonant vocal acrobatics, and those mood pieces have bit the dust. Instead of dense heat, the arrangements have gone airy, smooth, and optimistic. Simon Raymonde's finally solidified his role as bassist, adding to the overall impression of tight musicianship, and helping Robin's echo drenched production reach new heights. In other words, it's all dream pop from here on, albiet with a knack for rewiring other genres toward its own ends. Liz would later say that this is the album where the CT's members first got to know one another, and that's very much reflected in each song's personal feel and arrangements (she also said it's their least favorite record to date but I'm going to stay away from that for now...). Regardless, the critics loved it and probably went through a few thesauruses attempting to describe what they heard. My take? It's an excellent effort... but still an imperfect one.
You know, I'm a bit loath to give this a mere 8.5. First of all, the songs really do flow together as a suit, even though the mock-concept album song titles were a crock intended to annoy journalists. Secondly, those high points are absolutely stellar: "Ivo", "Lorelei" (a minor dance hit), "Aloysius", and "Donimo" reach a sort of Brian Eno-meets-the Byrds balance of song craft and atmosphere that foreshadows just how powerful the Twins music was to become. All resonate tremendously, sounding ominous, sexy, and joyous, while delivering CT's finest melodies up to this point. The last sticks out especially, being the first full blown example of shoegazing anywhere, and features a slow build of hovering atmosphere that erupts at the half way point into tidal waves of bejeweled guitar and ecstatically sensual Liz voicing. I can likewise appreciate the remaining tracks a good deal, particularly when I'm in a relaxed mood. "Pandora" is super-smooth jazzy stuff that uses its cymbal rhythm and lyrics to play with your ears, "Amelia"'s wailing vocals tremble with grief, and "Beatrix" has lots of cool synth-harpsichord underlying its odd, Victorian-funeral-dirge tone. Only a few songs fail to hit me on some level, and of these "Persephone" is the only one worth mentioning: it's a last ditch effort at returning to Head Over Heels' "hard" sound, and totally breaks the album's flow. The melody here isn't too good either, and stinks vaguely of generic heavy metal.
My biggest reason for the lower rating, I guess, is that Treasure still feels like one of the CT's more uneven works, despite the acclaim it has garnered. When heard in sequence, the songs seem slower and eventually fall off into boredom overall. Individual track listening hasn't got me to like everything either. In other words, the influence this had is probably more responsible for its reputation as THE Cocteau Twins classic (considering how experimental this was for 1984, that's easy to understand). Still, for those initiated by their more refined work Treasure possesses its own assets and will be worth tracking down.
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VICTORIALAND, 1986
Rating: 9
Best Songs- Feet-Like Fins
Worst Song- Through The Dark Months of April And May
Their first (and best) excursion into ambient music. Fascinatingly complex,
and full of quiet joy.
Written by Ian Allcock
Oh, wow. Did somebody say ethereal? Evidently CT really liked
the mood produced on Treasure, because they decided to record an entire album
around the combination of "Otterley"'s textured ambient drift and "Ivo"'s
song craft.The result is similar to Garlands in many ways: very slow music
and arrangements, which are sometimes hard to remember afterward. In fact,
if someone generally has trouble with slow moving tempos, I would lower the
rating above by about two stars since this will alienate such people immediately.
I was actually considering a lower rating too, as it took almost a month before
the songs really started to make sense. The sonic textures here are too intricate
and uncatchy to be immediately accessible, yet repeated listens reveal a wealth
of hooks subtly hidden in swaths of ambient texture. These feathery hooks
are largely what give the results a feeling of fragile, elegant, uniquely
understated beauty.
The afore mentioned textures are largely constructed as such: Robin lays down
one guitar riff with tons of echo on it so individual notes blur into a hazy
circling background, and then overdubs at least one other guitar part on top.
These parts sometimes multiply to five or six by song's end though they are
not introduced at a regular rate and sometimes do not come in at all. There's
no bass (Simon had momentarily moved on to This Mortal Coil), and the drum
machine is gone as well. Liz's singing is likewise harmonized by many voices
looping around eachother, often without a clear-cut chorus so much as a general
ebb and flow. Rhythm and melody come from this interaction only. As description
this may sound pretty tedious, and it would be coming from a regular pop band.
Instead, the Twins use their new approach to play endlessly with instrumental
tone and the listener's ears. "Oomingmak" features Robin sounding like a bunch
of huge church bells, and "Little Spacey" mimics a mandolin. Other assorted
tones resemble synthesizers, zithers, harps, and acoustic guitar, all rendered
in chiming sweeps that make each layer of sound blend seamlessly with those
that came before. Heck, even feedback is used softly to add more warmth and
drifting beauty.
As for actual highlight tracks, they're all over the place once again. The
opener, "Lazy Calm" is an incredibly restful piece, that somehow never sinks
into tedium over its ultra-slow six minute length. The beginning is particularly
of note, with a jazzy soprano sax playing softly over Robin's flowing chords
and whirring sound effects before picking up into Liz's fluttery vocal at
around three minutes. Warmer tracks like "Fluffy Turfts" and "Little Spacey"
often come in to lighten the mood when things get a bit to slow. The later
is especially cool due to its perculiar Italian-folk-song-gone-electric melody
and both featuring swooning, introspectively joyous harmonies. Likewise, there
are more chill songs to even things out: "How To Bring A Blush To The Snow"
is all eerie melancholy underlined by guitar chords that seem to shiver, and
"The Thinner The Air" has howling wintery harmonies that end the album on
a rather desolate note. My favorite track by far, however, is the Bacchanalian
"Feet-Like Fins" which begins in the strumming of a few spare chords that
echo magically from one ear to the other, conjuring all sorts of underwater
images. Suddenly, Liz nails you with yet another ecstatic, mindblowingly gorgeous
vocal, and Robin unleashes so many glittering guitar lines that the whole
song sparkles more dazzlingly that than a dozen fireworks lighting up the
sky at once. "Through The Dark Months of April and May" gets the shaft I suppose,
since it is still my least favorite melody on here (I don't know why, as it
sounds so much like "How To Bring A Blush..." later on). Maybe its just a
little too wintery and slow after the first two numbers.
I could probably go on, but that's not really necessary. Let it be said that
I consider this to be the first of the Cocteau's classics and another major
step toward their final shape as a band. Victorialand would prove to be a
mere lull before Simon returned, and the full band got to work creating what
would be one of their absolute signature albums, permanently establishing
them as shoegazing's leading pioneers, and a mainstay of the indie scene.
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THE MOON AND THE MELODIES, 1986
Overall Rating: 5.5
Best Song: Sea, Swallow Me
Worst Song: Any Budd solo number
More ambience. 50% Victorialand outtakes + 50% formless piano noodling = zzzzz....
Written by Ian Allcock
Eh, calling their next work a "signature album" was a bit
premature. You see, before doing Blue Bell Knoll, the CT did a little side
project with well known ambient composer and Brian Eno associate, Harold Budd.
The goal (I think) was to solidify what Victorialand had only implied. It's
a full makeover for the Twins from their previous experimental identity into
ambient jazzy modernism. Even Simon returned to help out here, and Budd's
detuned piano is a welcome addition to the band. So this should be a great
experience for all involved, right? I mean, it looks awesome on paper! Sigh...
I wish that were true. After listening, however, I found myself facing a whole
new question: I can see the moon fine, but where'd the melodies go? Man, is
this IT?
Yes, unfortunately this really is it. I don't know what went wrong during
the sessions for TMATM. Maybe Budd and the Cocteau's visions didn't come together
as expected. Whatever happened, this is possibly the only album the band has
yet released that sounds like a rush job from start to finish. The full on
tunes show no evolution from Victorialand's template and are virtually hookless.
There is thankfully one exception to be found in "Sea, Swallow Me" which possesses
a nice flowing piano line and starts the album with at least some energy,
but it's a long, glacially slow drag from there. I mean, this isn't even good
music to drift away to: the songs, "Eyes Are Mosaics", "She Will Destroy You",
and "Ooze Out And Away..." are all highly unmemorable, yet have just enough
structure to make them almost impossible not to pay attention to on at least
some level. Same goes for Budd's solo pieces, all of which are modal jazz
improvisation I think, but feature enough echo and busy chording that it's
hard to say. All three of his contributions: "The Ghost Has No Home", "Memory
Gongs", and "Why Do You Love Me?", could easily be coming from one long jam,
or many simultaneously layered over each other. The end result in either case
would be the same bluish, swirling blur dragging on without abbreviation.
Forty minutes or so later, the music ends.
Am I being too harsh? Heck, maybe the 5.5 rating is a bit much, even when
you consider the two works coming before and after this one. TMATM isn't offensive;
it's not ugly, not pretentious, just very dull. Yet, I also must consider
that, for all its faults, Garlands was clearly the work of a band dedicated
to its cause while this really feels like a tossed off project, right down
to the weak production and sometimes questionable takes (Liz's vocals sound
poorly mixed and sometimes waver sharply off key). On principle, I have trouble
accepting this sort of thing when the artists at hand were capable of so much
more, and can only guess the Cocteau's knew it was a doomed collaboration
too. Regardless, they sure got away from this sound quickly, letting The Moon's
botched exploration sink by the wayside with seldom a glance since.
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BLUE BELL KNOLL, 1988
Overall Rating 10*
Best Song: Could be just about anything on the first side
Worst Song: Spooning Good Singing Gum
The absolute lynch pin of shoegazing as a genre. Pure, unrelenting pop bliss.
Written by Ian Allcock
Unbelievable. After experimenting and hinting at their potential
for nearly a decade, all the pieces finally fell into place, and the Twins
produced their first out and out masterpiece. Gone are the (comparatively)
spare arrangements of Victorialand, and the sometime dragginess of Treasure.
Every facet of songwriting has been tightened, the sonic textures are even
deeper, and signs of excess are totally gone. The suite of songs that results
is not unlike The Beach Boys' Pet Sounds, both in terms of complexity and
mood. Liz's vocals are positively brimming over with warmth and compassion
while the arrangements often involve up to three separate rhythms playing
over one another and melodic lines to match. Robin's overdubbed on layer after
layer of treated guitar tone and feedback (as did Simon, now back from his
brief hiatus), and between them they succeed at producing super-dense clouds
of sound that lead into as many incredible instrumental moments as Liz creates
vocal ones.
Trying to pull out a single best moment from this collection is nearly impossible,
but I'll give it a go. The first side is full of exceptional songs, starting
with the title track. It begins as a tape look of harpsicord notes and then
evolves into one of the CT's most unpredictable melodies to date. Liz sounds
like she's singing some sort of warped Celtic folk tune the way her voice
keeps bobbing and quivering till it segues into a remarkably complex coda
of glistening feedback that somehow manages to remain on key. "Athol-Brose"
and "Carolyn's Fingers" are both poppy dance tunes featuring operatic, rising
melodies that remind me of "Lorelei" in their sheer sexiness. The later, in
particular, has unbelievable vocal work (once again) including what sounds
like a combination of singing and giggling from Liz who delivers with pixie-like
energy. Then we get "For Phoebe Still A Baby". Seriously, I don't like to
foam at the mouth, but this is THE SINGLE MOST ANGELIC SONG I HAVE EVER HEARD,
and the best song for a child as well (especially since the lyrics are so
impossible to understand, the kid's as much in the dark as we are). Finally,
"The Itchy Glowbo Blow" ends side one with crashing, glittery guitar work
and a flange drenched bridge that makes the whole song float with pulsing,
unearthly light.
I don't know where I'd go after creating a first side like that, but the Twins
do a grade-A job here as well. Admittedly, side two is a little slower than
the first, so it isn't quite as powerful. Still, the level of songwriting
on display here is pretty friggin high. Particularly of note is "Suckling
The Mender", a goofy calypso number featuring liquid guitar tones and herky-jerky
harmonies bouncing playfully through the chorus. "A Kissed Out Red Floatboat"
has some of the most convincingly aquatic synths I've ever heard serving as
the bedrock for another killer ballad. Then comes the ending, "Ella Megalast
Burls Forever", a work of pure, airy perfection for the listener to float
away on. My only complaint is "Spooning Good Singing Gum" which has a sweeping
vocal melody that cascades forward wonderfully, but is marred slightly by
Byrds-like ringing guitars at the end that sound out of place to my ears.
Actually, come to think of it I do have another complaint: why is this record
so terribly under-recognized, even after all these years? Most of the better
indie rock to come out of the '80s has long since been encorporated into mainstream
listening i.e. The Pixies, The Sonic Youth, Dinosaur Jr., etc. while Blue
Bell Knoll gets, at the very best, a token mention along with Treasure as
cool work from an okay cult band. I've seldom heard it spoken of by reviewers
as a pioneering experimental masterpiece, and I don't think the term "shoegazing"
ever comes up at all. Why? The only thing My Bloody Valentine did differently
on Loveless was replace the CT's booming use of echo with lots of fuzzy distortion
(to considerably less effect I might add). Anyway, for whatever reason this
has occurred, I'd unconditionally recommend that anyone even vaguely interested
in good pop music buy it immediately. BBK is all the Twin's best with nary
a flaw to be found and so much loving warmth at its heart that you may well
find yourself moved into parts of the emotional spectrum you haven't visited
in quite some time.
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HEAVEN OR LAS VEGAS, 1990
Overall Rating: 10*
Best Song: Heaven Or Las Vegas
Worst Song: Wolf In The Breast
Their final masterpiece before leaving 4AD.
Written by Ian Allcock
In 1990 the Cocteau Twins stood at the cusp of a major change that would affect the band's inner chemistry in a very permanent, ultimately detrimental way. Not that they knew it at the time. Though tensions had been brewing between CT and 4AD's president, Ivo Watts-Russell, their contract still stipulated they release one more album after what would be Heaven Or Las Vegas. No one actually asked that they be let go early. However, in 1991 that's exactly what Ivo did, giving them total freedom to leave. It was a hard decision, especially considering how 4AD had allowed the Twins to develop without much commercial pressure; pressure the band would soon face at their new home on Capitol Records. Thankfully, however, Heaven Or Las Vegas was finished before the forces that be popped the Twins' creative bubble and not a moment too soon. It would have been very sad indeed if listeners had not been able to hear the final development of their sound. Liz stated afterward that Heaven Or Las Vegas was an attempt to shed some of the Twins' mystery, a remark born out by the fact that this is easily their most accessible and outstandingly catchy work to date.
I stated in the previous review that Blue Bell Knoll was very much like Pet Sounds in terms of arrangements and atmosphere. Heaven Or Las Vegas, therefore, might be compared to Odessey And Oracle. Like that album, what we have here is more conventionally poppy but nonetheless stands apart as wholly distinctive. It's a sort of dance pop, but dance pop constructed in some parallel universe where the Twins' collective sound stands as the norm. HOLV is less innovative than BBK, but possesses an earthier mood and the same loving atmosphere. Liz's voice has become clear enough that you can make out a few of her lyrics, and she's starting to seriously get into her lower vocal range. In fact, the singing here is warmer than on any other CT album, sounding at once matronly and girlish as it bounces and whirs around each melody. That's a good thing too, considering just how sharp these melodies are. Whereas BBK worked heavily with texture, this album submerges it for subtle changes in musical color and rhythm that barely register at first but hugely improve the overall picture after a few listens. Hooks are brought to great prominence, and layered to produce some killer pop songs. In fact, the middle segment from tracks two to seven is one long tear of perfect song writing, the best of which, "Heaven Or Las Vegas", has one of the most cathartic choruses I've ever heard. The rest ranges from infectious dance pop ("Pitch The Baby"), to brilliant guitar rock ("Fotzepolitic"), to spooky contemplation ("Fifty-Fifty Clown"). "Wolf In The Breast" breaks the streak a bit, being a good ballad about Liz's childern, but lacking the energy heard everywhere else. The end number "Frou-Frou Foxes In Midsummer Fires", however, is the best epic the Twins have delivered since "Donimo" and finishes the record on a glowing high note. Heck, even "Wolf In The Breast" would have been a standout on any other album. HOLV is really that good.
In closing, let it be said that this is the place to start if you want to get into the Twins' work. Heaven Or Las Vegas was such a strong statement at the time of it's release that even critics often dismissive of CT (see Trouser Press) had to admit that it was quite a startling album. It's also the archetypal Twins record if ever there was one, and presents a sonic template they would rehash to less effect in subsequent projects. Today HOLV still stands, to my ears, as one of rock's great flashpoints, marking the end of CT's peak period and completing their legacy as major pioneers of dream pop for others to follow.
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