By: Si Forster
The Caretaker | website | facebook | bandcamp |
Released on September 30, 2016 via Bandcamp
In the summer of 1970something, a baby me was woken up somewhere in the Ponsmere Hotel in Perranporth. From the hotel’s ballroom, the strains of ‘Tie a Yellow Ribbon’ floated down the corridors to provide me with my first experience of Night Terror, that weird state between deep sleep and full consciousness where dreams replace reality and the body is paralysed. Apparently, my screams were heard by pretty much everyone present that evening, especially those present in the aforementioned ballroom. Hearing that song still produces a chill.
With a first memory like that, it’s no wonder that I’m drawn to the ideas and music that forms Leyland Kirby’s The Caretaker project, a persona invented from the final shot of Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining, where bygone reverie is reduced to music left tattered by time. The Caretaker has been presenting his recollections as an exploration of the human memory and its slow degradation since 1999, and Everywhere at the End of Time represents the beginning of the end where the project comes to a natural but harrowing conclusion over six albums where Kirby has taken the step of introducing early onset dementia to his own character, ensuring that the curator of these memories eventually ceases to be.
All of this sounds deeply upsetting, but it has to be said that this first instalment – no doubt by design – is rather lovely. Anyone familiar with The Caretaker will know what to expect, those new to his work will find this selection an idea place to start. Pre-war dancehall 78s are curated, looped, treated and distressed to become these spectral little memories, and on Everywhere at the End of Time these tunes come across largely bright, romantic and wistful despite the somewhat portentous and downright sad titles.
There is the occasional exception however, with ‘Slightly Bewildered’ sitting uncomfortably among other, warmer pieces with its looped piano stopping and starting several with a ragged edge and buried under more pops and crackles than its neighbours. It’s something that fits in well with the overarching narrative, presenting a moment of confusion, frustration and upset to an otherwise cheerful collection.
More than most records, every listener will be affected by Everywhere at the End of Time differently depending on what they bring to it within themselves. For me, is a strange coming-together of my terrifying first memory as described at the top of this and another early childhood experience of watching my Grandma start to fade, at an age when I had no idea what was happening. This isn’t a sad experience though; having memories gently wheedled out in this manner may well seem a bit strange but it’s a welcome and rather beautiful process that will no doubt become harder to bear and to listen to as this series continues over the next three years.
For now, the inscription of “Memories That Last a Lifetime” on the runoff groove on both sides of this record provides both comfort and a fresh take on how I recall and cherish my own memories. I hope it has a similar effect on everyone else.
