For the past ten days or so I've stewed over this one with repetitious intent. Songs like Thursday, Sixth Of May & Adoration anchor its slumped, dreary atmosphere in a deceptively subdued yet morbid setting. They sway in a mesh of mesmerizing tracks as musical frictions arise. Surges of jolting, broody piano chords, stabbed with solemn pains. Gritty frazzled guitars deliver drives of dissonance. Patrolling, devious base lines stalk with a shivering intent. In the degrees its various components meld at, all are driven by a cold mechanical tempo, dragging the music forth like a death march.
My curiosity in this drab journey was fueled by a lack of perception. As a band dropped into my collection for discovery later on, I initially found them on Shoegazing and Dream Pop lists. Too my ears there is little of that here. Wings Of Joy is far more akin to the burdensome biblical sins of Children Of God in its darker alleys. That's only partial because there is uplift in sight as Alison Shaw sings with a childish innocence of soft tonality and fragile wordless inflections. Her tone reminds me of Grimes yet feels so very different in the pale darkly context. She is much like an innocent lost soul endlessly drifting, trapped in a world of horrors and demons they are blind too.
The production is also of merit too. Its spacious design keep the often stiff and repetitious instruments an eerie space to brood within. The guitars often swell up from underneath, leaving the dull marches festering with texture. It seems to be the common trick. Its initial simplicity seems cold and lifeless yet as the songs drone on, this curious enchanting atmosphere arises to engross the listener. And that's what it achieves from start to end without a weak spot. Wings Of Joy has something distinct to offer and revels in the space crafted for it, by the English band who are named after the visibility of many cranes present in the dockyards of London, their home.
Rating: 7/10