The Earlies existed for a short time in the mid 2000s, plying a unique blend of psychedelia, Americana and dreamy folk that saw two albums released amid a low level of fanfare; but those people that discovered them fell in love with the sleepy harmonies, beautiful production and the absolute grab-bag of instrumentation. Out of print for a long time, the first album has released a long overdue twenty-first anniversary re-issue and has another opportunity to cast its magic over a new core of listeners.
The album opens with a lysergic, psychedelic drift and reminds a little of early Mercury Rev in the way the the mixture of instruments and voices manages to evoke a soft-focus sound world that envelops the listener. Horns and electronics waft around the pretty melodies and a hint of flute gives a pastoral backdrop. There is an intimacy at play here that draws you in, then wanders off with you down various quiet country lanes, asking you to be part of the greater whole.
Transcendent synth sections are like snapshots from another place which kind of looks familiar, but seen or heard through some refracting lens. With the woodwind lending a further sense of remove, it nods to folk idioms but isn’t interested in becoming caught up. Wispy shadows are cast and a gentle propulsion is generated by the rhythm section. The group invented their own language; obscure, meandering lyrics and crying choral voices inhabit drunken piano ballads that are pieced together like mosaics. The list of personnel is long, but the core quartet shared a vision that was constructed with some special logic.
The album ends with another piano ballad that reiterates and repeats the phrase “Take me home” over a heartfelt melody. This idea of home is important to the group and perhaps describes their personal attitude towards the album; one of proximity, compassion and connection. It still sounds great twenty-one years on and will sound great in another twenty-one years.
-Mr Olivetti-
