- Music
- 09 Jul 15
No, you’re not suffering from deja vu; you have heard and read of Fitzcarraldo before. Indeed, Niall Crumlish reviewed he second long-player from local heroes The Frames D.C. in this very organ just before Christmas last, where he awarded it an impressive 10 on the dice. The album has since been completely remixed by Trevor Horn, hence its subsequent re-release and re-review.
Not having been exposed to Fitzcarraldo in its original incarnation, I cannot comment on whether this is an improvement or not. What I can say is that, even after a few listens, I find myself wondering how I managed without it for so long.
Opening with the masterful ‘Revelate’, one of the ten best Irish singles ever, it would seem to many that things can only go downhill. Not so! The rest of the LP is chock-full of truly magical moments as The Frames tug relentlessly at your heartstrings during a rollercoaster ride of emotion and power.
‘Angel At My Table’ inhabits that frustrating netherworld between lovers and friends as the object of Glen Hansard’s lust and affection implores him: “Will you be my anchor/When there is no-one around to hold me down?”
On the impressive title track, the march-like tattoo of the drum and pulsing bass contrasts with the haunting cello. Meanwhile, Glen’s lyrics are at once deeply personal and universal, a difficult feat in itself, and his delivery is deadly accurate. If I have one minor gripe, it is that, like Mundy, the tracks are a tad epic in their arrangements, but then again, these are big themes and they need space in which to roam.
During ‘In This Boat Together’, the languid basslines and gently lolling strings create a rather melancholy atmosphere, perfect for Hansard’s heartfelt emotions to shine forth: “If I had a wish I’d give it straight to you now,” he sings, and you know instinctively that he means it.
Scratchy abrasive guitar heralds the start of ‘Monument’, before making way for a full-frontal sonic assault. The only real filler is the moody ‘Giving It All Away’, which is characterised by a Jah Wobble-like dub bassline. ‘Red Chord’ and the closing ‘Your Face’ are achingly delicate, the schmaltzy guitar solo on the latter taking in fairly close to Harry Connick Jnr territory.
In all, this album sees The Frames D.C. treading in the same open-hearted honest waters as the likes of David Gray, aeons away from the Celtic rock of ‘The Dancer’. The biggest compliment I can pay this album is that, given time, I can see Fitzcarraldo becoming a very good friend indeed.