This reissue of The Raincoats' second album is the first true exposure I have had to them, other than snatched snippets here and there. It’s possible to see a little of where they were pinching their ideas from against the backdrop of post-punk UK, but even clearer to see where a lot of bands have pinched from them in the thirty years since Odyshape’s release.
Almost without exception, the beginnings of each song are instantly captivating. But although these brooding, atmospheric intros are incredible, where I anticipate a song taking hold, none ever comes. Instead, freeform, ethereal, unfocused, melodic, discordant, drawn out, strange and occasionally beautiful music flows forth. It's certainly not verse-chorus-verse affair, more simplicity made complex, where basic ideas are built up in confusing ways. It’s so convoluted much of it seems ad hoc, and when there is a borehole of a hook, the hole is filled with out of synch repetition.
The passage of time through the LP is so hard to distinguish a ticking clock is included at one point, and without looking at the sleeve, I couldn’t say how many songs are present. After five or so, it seems to blur together. The record ebbs and flows in a very organic manner, like it grew out of the need to make a second album. Not that it sounds forced or inept, but the meandering nature makes it difficult to keep up with what’s going on, and there is a danger for it to slide into the background. The band (and distinguished guests present) are adept musicians, or at least masters of playing within their limitations, but none of the compositions ever truly build into anything momentous.
The beautiful mini-LP packaging the promo CD came in gave way to horrendous carbuncle of on-disc art. A reasonably informative booklet is included, presumably for Raincoats novices like myself. All in all it’s a pretty understated anniversary reissue, but that’s great. No need to make a song and dance for everything, more like a Keep It In Print edition than a Mega-Mondo Super-Deluxe Repackaged With Five Outtakes For A Larger Sum Of Money Than You Are Comfortable Paying edition.
Ultimately, although in the soup of ideas there are melodies, hooks, refrains and chants that are beguiling and infectious, the lack of real propulsion or sense of direction dampens this album’s repeat-listenability. Despite the ease with which you can be absorbed in the sounds, interest can wane just over the halfway point. Maybe I’m just in thrall to tangible pop songs and have too much of a basic mind to appreciate the unique complexity. Think I’ll check out their debut next. It has ‘Lola’ on it.