What a lifeless album. The vocals drawl and linger, the bass-led, jangling sound seems lazy, and the composite drone and echo-y reverb lull the listener to what could be a permanent sleep. But wait, a surf-rock rhythm stirs, playing out over feedback and the introduction of a curiously familiar organ. So cue very apparent influences.
The band's dulled sound is married quite harmoniously to a rich legacy of musical history. Unknown Pleasures is their apparent bible, Psychocandy the illicit thrill hidden inside its pages to stave off Sunday school boredom. All the while, The Velvet Underground sit on the shoulder like a detrimentally persuasive peer, making their influence most heard in "Prismatic Room". And yet there is more, for some goody two-shoes counterpart to the Velvet's peerage sits prettily atop the other shoulder. In its hand lies a pop record.
It's true. Somewhere amongst this listless fuzz resides a pop record, perverted beyond all recognition and played at too slow a speed. Post-punk and shoe-gaze collide in slow motion to mask these pop sensibilities in moribund noise, which, albeit without the free experimentalism, could nevertheless recall Loveless at its more accessible. Suggestion is hidden everywhere as to this pop theme, sneaking out in rare moments such as in "Graveyard Orbit" - a track that borrows wistful 50s rock `n' roll guitars from the likes of Ben E. King.
There are few highlights to be found on Alight Of Night - this is to its credit - and, like other numbing painkillers, it's thus best taken as a whole. This is a bleak and difficult album that grows in stature with every listen. Yet, it finds itself at a difficult cross-road. It wants to slide into oblivion so that it can be hailed as a lost, cult classic by beard-strokers and music obsessives, but would also like to be recognized in its own lifetime. Get onboard early, because whilst it might appear dead on arrival, there is a life aplenty with repeat listens.