By: Rich Buley
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Released on August 14, 2015 via Fierce Panda Records
In much the same way as MinionTV’s Stephen Johnston and Barry Fearns have taken leave from an excellent UK post rock act to skilfully demonstrate a different side to them altogether- the two piece ambient electronica of Wired To Follow, Ciaran Morahan and Pete Lambrou of Codes In The Clouds (and in Pete’s case, also Monsters Build Mean Robots) have been performing as ALMA, a stripped down, near ghostly alternative to the colossal, dramatic soundscapes of their other bands.
Their seven song, self-titled debut album is very nearly entirely percussion-less, and most of the pieces feature just piano, a single, restrained electric guitar, a haunting, uplifting vocal, and an array of electronic effects and delay pedals. The quality of the song-writing, and the elegance of much of the arrangement, renders any description of ALMA as a “side project” for Morahan and Lambrou as disparaging and utterly throwaway. Drawn to read and listen by the knowledge we have of the artists’ previous output, let’s bury that and focus alone on the fact that ALMA delivers a wonderful set of delicate, other-worldly beauty.
The instrumental opener, ‘Cosmonaut’, is a gorgeous introduction, with soft, heart-rending piano and twinkling synth, amid developing, enveloping washes of electronic sound, while ‘The Great Escape’ has Lambrou’s soothing, heart-rending vocal tone at its heart, as piano glistens and strings and synth glide and soar. It’s a sumptuous combination, and over too soon.
‘The Gardener’ has something of Wild Beasts about it, in such a good way, as falsetto combines with mournful violin and guitar, simple keys and a glitchy, pulsed beat, before ‘If You Believe You Were An Island’ begins buoyantly with a dominant yet plaintive guitar line. This track sees the first obvious use of guitar delay and other effects, that build and threaten, but remain unobtrusive.
Lead single ‘To The Stars’ begins with an affecting lightness of touch, and develops effortlessly into another ravishing ambient crescendo, with the repeated “When I’m scared of the dark” refrain providing a focal point for the evolving instrumentation to surround and augment it. Best of all, however, is ‘The Lighthouse’. Initially containing the most minimal arrangement on the album, with a lone, plucked guitar accompanying Lambrou, it gradually swells into an all-encompassing wash of sound that slowly and deliberately drowns the song. “I bought you a lighthouse, for your finest hour, to guide you by sea and stars”- the effect of the instrumentation is incredibly evocative, and leaves at least me wondering whether the one the lighthouse was purchased for actually made it, or was lost to the sea.
The closing ‘While Nothing’ is possibly the first time I am reminded of Sigur Ros, in terms of arrangement and tone, and that is probably one of the biggest compliments I can pay this record (the late reminder, not the actual mention of Iceland’s finest). ALMA again take a dazzling piano lead and envelop us with a rising, blissed out crescendo of delayed guitars and ambience.
ALMA have produced sophisticated, vocal based ambient pop that will win them a legion of new fans, and might have a few supporters of the guitar led crescendos of Codes In The Clouds or Monsters Build Mean Robots opening their ears to different possibilities. With the former in the studio recording a new album, it will be very interesting to see and hear whether the assured calm of ALMA’s sound, and the strength of Lambrou’s voice, play a part in their next step as a band.
Take thirty minutes away from the usual cacophony and allow ALMA to show you the beauty that lies within the calm of the storm, rather than the ferment and noise found in the eye of it.
