Noah and the Whale

Music Review Noah and the Whale: First Days of Spring The First Days of Spring was released earlier this year as a follow up to Noah and the Whale’s debut album, Peaceful the World Lays Me Down. The First Days of Spring covers the shifting shades of a fading love which, by comparison, makes their first musical accomplishment sound like little more than a sweet nothing.

Interestingly enough, the wilting romance that inspired this change of direction was between none other than former band member Laura Marling and lead singer Charlie Fink. Fink is in fact reported to have said that ‘the first time I listened to our new album in full, I just broke down’.

Fortunately for fans of the band, the seductive scent of blossoming sadness laces this album with an arresting sincerity. The resonant guitar riffs and mournful violin melodies may sound insubstantial, but they haunt the air like a hungry ghost. Furthermore, Fink puts his voice to good use by gently rumbling it over the music like an ageing gunshot. In an overall sense, the album sounds like Noah and the Whale have decided to dignify their passions with a forget-me-not sound that shudders and shivers with as much intensity as something Sigur Ros could have produced. The best example of this would have to be the title track of the album, which pulses with enough emotion to give even the meekest memories of lost love some heart.

However, there are undoubtedly those who will hear only the wistful wining of a band that has for so long been rooted in pansy pop. Is it possible that these people would have a point too? Is there not something quite artificial, pathetic and self-indulgent about their art? One could certainly give credence to some of these criticisms, particularly on the grounds that the album is over-watered with clichés.

This is perhaps most apparent in songs such as Blue Skies, in which Fink opens with the lamented line ‘This is a song for anyone with a broken heart’. Perhaps such bland allusions to love could be professed a little less, but surely it is more important to identify whether the album feels like a broken heart?

There are of course those cavilling cowboys who will deliberately avoid making such simple distinctions so that they can (with artless triumph) round up roses, pistol whip posies, and return stolen hearts to their owners; but you do not have to be one of them. It is best to adopt a more delicate approach to this album because, as is the case with many beautiful things, once dissected, they become bloody, unspeakable messes.

It is thus best to focus on the feel of the album, for example: the final track, My Door is Always Open, which climaxes with an intangible mix of morose metaphor. You could approach this song like a surgeon performing investigative surgery with a shotgun and argue that ‘and the dust and the dirt and the flowers in the earth’ is nothing more than the prattle of a pretentious indie pop devotee; or you could take these wailed words as the unfinished thoughts of a man who is overwhelmed by the grandeur of his own emotions.

To surmise, the First Days of Spring is a wonderful album capable of rankling your insides with the elemental force of evanescing love, but only if you let it.

By Phillip Connor