REVIEW: THE WHITE ALBUM – CONQUISTADOR

 

Reviewed by Paul Fellowes

It comes as a surprise, and then as an icebreaker that a mini-album can be from a band called The White Album: “Have You heard The White Album’s Album?” “What White Album, Whose that by?” and so on. Nonetheless, this then sends the conversation onto the music and, again, it is something easily spoken of as you frequently find yourself in a position of total tranquility and happiness.

Beginning on the almost mystical charm of plucked guitars, Counting Treasures allows the listener to begin their journey. It’s a gentle and light way to introduce the show and whilst it’s not hard to appreciate the beauty that this beholds,  you can’t help but notice that there’s throughout the album, you are sadly left begging for a little bit more.

Seventeen gives you that little bit more. The higher pitch and magnificently different tune adds something from its previous counterpart. It’s a little more Beirut or Tigers On Trains and a little less simple and forgettable.

There’s a little more structure throughout too, which allows the listener to appreciate where he/she is actually at within the track’s body. The lyrics fall flawlessly from the vocal line and make it a fantastic track.

Trenches swiftly follows and this tiny little track only consists of harmonies. It acts as a pleasant break between musicality and lyricism to offer something that you won’t really have heard unless you managed to attain Alt-J’s album, An Awesome Wave, this year.

Albeit a lot slower and more fearful, Seasons End owns a continuous tranquility that could send the busiest of souls into an oblivion of peace, quiet and wonder. It seems to be a much simpler track, but it works well for the Dutch group and offers something that you can’t help but adore.

The listener is then slowly, but surely, eased into lead single, Your Mouth Is a Fist. Though the title of the track suggests something powerful, different and courageous, when you hear the sweet crooning, like a particularly soft track carried out by Biffy Clyro … you can see why this is a single.

Overall, the track begs for more in terms of percussion to give it that little lift and stronger presence, but this is not to suggest that you cannot understand and adore what is on offer and the listener can easily fall into this somewhat psychedelic euphoria of sweetness.

The solemn tones of Let’s Go Out instantly dismember the thought that this may be a cheerful track, likened to Florence + The Machine’s Hurricane Drunk. But, in true The White Album fashion, the sheer sugar-coating that this band take control of lifts any problems from the surface and gently massages the wounds of the listener’s day.

It’s inviting, stunning and a brilliant way to close the show, even if it does lack some sort of structure … which could be the point. It’s as though you are not saying goodbye, but that you will see them later on.

 

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