2023
Full Time Hobby
Spotify | Deezer | Bandcamp
Cela parle du deuil et des endroits qui nous semblent hantées par nos souvenirs. Les fantômes seraient ils de simples projections de notre esprit en proie aux affres du chagrin ? Je ne vois pas comment mieux l'expliquer. Même la pochette montre cette maison pleine de souvenir, dont le chanteur dira qu'elle semblait suspendu dans le temps après le décès de sa mère.
Une disparition, tout comme d'autres moments d'émotions intense, est toujours propice à un curieux travail de mémoire solitaire. comme si le refuge dans nos souvenirs nous semblait alors préférable plutôt que d'affronter le présent nu. Comme si cette soudaine anamnèse, déclencher par cet épisode intense, cherchait à nous conforter, tout en arrivant seulement, et souvent, à juste un peu plus de mélancolie.
Il y a force d'émotion dans la musique de ce trio anglais dont la musique me semble être un des petits enfants de Gary Numan, oui, j'ai mes références je fais ce que je peut. Il y à une tension, une urgence dans cette album, dans cette musique, presque palpable. Les albums cathartique sont parmi mes favoris, non pas que je me réjouisse du malheur des autres, mais leurs émotions sont plus vrais, éclatante et simple, elles saisissent le cœur doucement et sans violence (c'est ici le cas du moins) pour nous montrer tout ce que les compositeurs ont cherché à nous raconté. C'est une vie qui s'étale sous nos oreille, ici, et ça mérite qu'on l'écoute, surtout quand c'est fait avec un tel brio.
Delirious chatter… clinks of warm cans of beer… Cocteau Twins played at
full blast. Lively memories of parties and people live on through This
House, the new album from Pale Blue Eyes. The house in question is there
on the front cover, the childhood home of the trio’s vocalist and
guitarist, Matt Board. Defined by closure and moving on, This House is
shaken to its rafters as the band navigate the grief of recent parental
loss. Alongside uplifting melodies that dance like no-one’s watching,
the album is rich in life-affirming human connections, where
music-making becomes a means of recovery.
“When Mum died, five years after Dad, there was this charge hanging in
the air, connecting each person in the room,” says Matt. “Time stopped. I
felt like I momentarily entered an alternative dimension between life
and death. Days and weeks later I’d see my family in every corner of the
house – all the reminders, ghosts and memories. Then, gradually, it
felt like time for a new start, moving on from the house and my amazing
parents.”
While the band’s debut LP Souvenirs captured memories and melancholy
from around the death of Matt’s father, This House is its next-door
neighbour. The new album was
finished in the immediate aftermath of the death of Matt’s mum. As soon
as the record was completed, PBE were packing up the contents from their
self-built Penquit Mill home studio, financed through endless casual
work and a bank loan. The location was a dream – in the middle of
nowhere, just south of Dartmoor, midway between Plymouth and Totnes.
The studio was where they spent hours recording and self-producing both
records, while supporting Matt’s mum through the decline of a long-term
illness. Matt and his bandmate and wife Lucy Board
(drums/synth/production) have now returned north, to her native
Sheffield, with funk-mad bassist Aubrey Simpson living between Devon and
London.
“It’s a more sombre and more ecstatic album, with an urgent desire to
remember and enjoy every moment,” says Matt of the record’s
life-defining “end of era” moments. “We’ve dealt with loss throughout
both albums,” says Matt, “but this time there has been rebuilding –
appreciating and relishing the things and people still here.”
Pertinently, album tracks ‘Sister’ and ‘More’ celebrate the complexities
of relationships between family and friends.
“We wanted to turn a shitty situation into something positive,” says
Lucy, “ so we put all our energy into making music that was fun to play
live and perhaps open up a way out.” Matt concurs: “The album captures
moments of elation and joy alongside the grave mood that eventually
engulfed our home. During those tough times we played all over the UK
and overseas, buoyed by the thrill of people listening to what we’d been
working on… knowing two days later we’d be in a hospice saying our
final goodbyes to Mum. The ultimate headfuckery.”
PBE say the new album is a “slightly more worldly-wise sibling” to 2022
debut LP Souvenirs. The latter was roundly acclaimed. “Joyous...
propulsive… exhilarating”, said Uncut. Magic of France were impressed:
“Ultrapuissante... orgasmique... profondeur infinie.” Line Of Best Fit
said, “‘Like all great debuts it’s both a culmination of their
beginnings as well as a pointer to the wide open road ahead.”
Mixed and mastered by Moonlandingz’s Dean Honer (Róisín Murphy, The
Human League, I Monster), with jam sessions its driving force, This
House bounces through analogue tape delays and effects pedals to capture
life’s oscillating journey. Celebratory ‘Simmering,’ and ‘Hang Out’
offer peaks, highlighting the importance of pressing the ‘off’ switch.
“It’s about enjoying simple moments,” says Matt, “the sun on your face,
hanging with friends in the pub, looking at the night sky...”
Any threat of troughs are lifted by motorik rhythms from their Moog
Little Phatty and Prophet 12 – thanks to Lucy’s fascination for South
Yorkshire synth innovation. The dissertation for her music degree was
titled “An Investigation into Sheffield's Alternative Music Scene
Between 1973 and 1978, with Particular Reference to Cabaret Voltaire.”
With This House, Lucy’s hometown sounds blend with Aubrey’s evangelical
interest in Motown and various funk titans. These diverse touchstones
comes through in the PBE album’s blend of pop hooks and psych-rock
sophistication. ‘Heating’s On’ is a driving anthem, glistening with ’80s
guitar and a trumpet part care of Lucy. ‘Sister’ mixes goth-rock guitar
with DIY choral grandeur, a tasty mix of The Cult and Joe Meek.
‘Millions Times Over’ takes feelings of hopelessness and then creates a
lovely bittersweet feel via shimmering synths and wistful vocals. The
album concludes with the widescreen expanse of ‘Underwater’, a moving,
meditative set-piece.
“Mum always said she loved hearing the sounds of the recording process
as people would come and go from the studio,” Matt remembers.
Making music as a means to go on, Pale Blue Eyes’ two albums bookend
other significant moments, such as soundtracking the Atmos
arts-and-housing project in Totnes (featuring a sound-and-light
installation by Brian Eno). There was also the time PBE’s beloved old
Citroën blew up between gigs, reinforcing a valuable lesson. “You have
to embrace the Berlingo!” says Lucy, rolling out the band’s new motto.
“Change is inevitable,” Matt adds. “You have to embrace it all, the good and bad, and the horribly ugly.”
