Articles by Jon Buckland
Imbuing each recording with a sense of invigorating and rejuvenating optimism, Broderick somehow captures a life-affirming buoyancy that is laced with such a gentle sliver of melancholia that it never tips over into saccharine indignity.
The Vatican Cellars is largely singular in focus and intent. It has a sinister, if borderline pompous, air to it. Terrifying, anxiety-inducing drones teeter into genre-baiting, nefarious organs. Pianos plink and plod over sonic gusts from sweeping 80s synths and this creates a feeling akin to the score of The Thing… if it was directed by Dario Argento and soundtracked by Goblin.
Across these tracks a dynamism is apparent which gives credence and weight to the initial concept – a cyclical consideration of life and death. Tender ivory tinkles ring out like the echo of a distant star’s glint and then bone-shuddering cello and dramatic chords thump downwards with aplomb.