The Coral - 'Nightfreak & The Sons Of Becker' (Deltasonic)
4/5
By: Toby L
Give The Coral a week of studio-time in North Wales, and whereas most would see the opportunity as a chance to simply get dashingly, mongulatingly stoned, the Merseyside sextet somehow find the moment to not only get, of course, head-trashingly caned, yet seemingly innovative in the same head-space.
So comes 'Nightfreak & The Sons Of Becker': a munchies-friendly zone of zapping samples and spooky, cartoon-like vividness, akin to Gorky's caught in a forest-maze with comic-strips made up of acid tabs and a whole bag of vastly magical mushrooms. It's not all drugs, though. These are largely untreated, intimate sounds from the 21st Century's masters of the mind, together concocting lo-fi potion after trippy potion of rich, dreamy pop-psychedelia.
Prepare then, for eleven half-finished insights into the multifaceted brain-cells of the UK's most invigorating, prolific, new talents for a quarter-century. 'Nightfreaks...' will be the lost album you'll cherish heartedly (if only for the fact only 75,000 copies are being pressed in the first place, thus marking yours an instant Ebay-contender), seeing as its very obscure personality is the work-in-progress insight we've longed for a gander at; The Coral 2004: at last, as stripped-back as characters so confusing can possibly be.
From the opening, abrasive-cum-bittersweet ambience of 'Precious Eyes', to the blurting, Captain Beefheart lunacy of 'Migraine', though a lack of coherence could make a valid claim for the six-piece's latest, the sheer joy throughout is the non-contrived, open diversity with which James Skelly and co. air their filthy laundry.
Elsewhere, we get transcendent, folky melancholy ('Keep Me Company' - so low-key, it even still bears bum-notes in the final mix), whirling SFA keyboards ('Grey Harpoon'), a distant piano-lullaby ('Lover's Paradise'), a dashing of mid-tempo, bassy jam/experimental freak-outs ('Venom Cable', 'Why Does The Sun Come Up'), or pensive, moving, classic Brit-songwriting, naturally, with a touch of the bizarre ('Song Of The Corn', 'Sorrow Or The Song').
Consistently, the voyage is a random, at times disarming one. Yet, always up the sleeve amidst the more manic madness, are instants of sheer, outright charm: a blend that moulds The Coral. And a definition-point that, until now - amongst the stripping of the production and hyperbole - had always been a tough discovery to fully unearth.
Artists in this article: The Coral
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