Daytrotter Session

The grains of salt that must have been taken in the writing of the last two Noah and The Whale albums could have formed a mountain, no doubt. The frivolity of so much of life had to have started coming through to Charlie Fink, the lead singer for the group from Twickenham, London. He had to have decided to let some sadness and depression go in order to get this way, to just calm the melancholy down some. It can just get unbearable sometimes, that lasting stickiness of dread and dim prospects, or of the shadowy memories of lovers lost. It can be a monster under the bed or the mice in the walls that are unable to be ignored, even with the strongest of willpower. It gets to be so heavy that it squashes a person. Fink has had his bouts of heartbreaking trauma that have been nicely fit into words and lyrics, given a chance to dig the hole even deeper. Performing, he had to play out of and live within the emotions of a breakup, night-after-night and its something thats liable to bury a man. Something changed from the days of making "The First Days of Spring" to the days of making "Last Night On Earth," and now to the making of the newest record, "Heart of Nowhere." These arent the changes that youd suspect from the first two titles, but rather a loosening up of sorrow and a clearing of the overcast skies. It could just have been that there was a greater point to just say, "F**k it," and no one could blame a guy for doing so. Theres a feeling that everythings somewhat better, or its just a play on the idea that anything can be seen in a better light if the contrast is the world ending in less than 24 hours. You can let a lot of stuff slide when theres not much left to have to let slide. Fink sings on "Tonights The Kind of Night" - from "Last Night On Earth" -- "Tonights the kind of night that everything could change." Somehow the band - which includes fiddle/keyboard player Tom Hobden, bassist Matt Owens, guitarist Fred Abbott and drummer Michael Petulla - has a way of making the apocalypse, the end of it all, sound like a romp around a sunny town, with the top rolled back and a vision of grand things unbelievably happening to a bunch of humble souls. Everythings turned joyous, or close to it. There has been a great unburdening, weights lifted and folks are just allowed to sip the sweet air and behave as carelessly as they want. Theyre able to just be whatever form of themselves that theyd like to be, for there will no longer be any judgment. Its an abandonment of the hang-ups and all those things that hold people back from being truly happy. With one day or night to go, they just let loose. They get the tattoo theyve always wanted. They finally tell the person theyve always loved that they love them, consequences be damned. Theyre going to smile their faces sore and theyre going to surround themselves with all of the people theyve found with good hearts, for that last gasp. With "Heart of Nowhere," Fink takes us to some point after what was supposed to be the end of it all and, lo and behold, here we are, still dealing with a lot of the same ****. Were bored and were tired and were feeling like were still hanging out here in the breeze. People are going by with worried eyes and theyre going to bed alone and sad, but theres still that slim hope that youre going to be able to steer clear of these troubles and make good on the night. You and your friends are still surviving and thats what counts.