For most of the big hitters on the Oxford scene, it’s been a pretty great year. Whether it’s the 4AD signing of Stornoway, the superb sophomore album from Foals, or the placing of Dial F for Frankenstein’s ‘Wes Vega’ into a national television drama, the established acts seem to be doing very nicely indeed. So why aren’t The Winchell Riots up there with them?
A clue may be had from our review of their previous EP, Histories. Look at the date: Spring 2008. It was a decent debut, with two excellent tracks and a couple of misfires, but where was the follow up? And why did it take so long? A debilitating perfectionism? Laziness? Focussing on the day job? I don’t know their recent biographical background, but I can tell you this: it won’t have been lack of inspiration.
‘The Red Square’ EP is a thing of rare beauty, and achieves a consistency of vision and tone which eluded ‘Histories’. From Phil McMinn’s heartbreaking high tenor through Nathan Allsworth’s astrally-lonely pianos to Sam Williams’ gloriously sensitive production, the record is one to love and treasure, with no real caveats.
‘Love, the Great Olympic Sport’ shares one similarity with early Radiohead: the cynical, even sour lyrics are in a constant fight with the massive, ecstatic music, with the music winning hands down. McMinn is fooling no-one: he may sing that love is meaningless and life isn’t worth living but the band are refuting him at all points, with James Pamphlion’s triple-time snare rolls, the mighty chords that underpin the chorus, and his own soaring voice providing compelling counter-arguments. Jean Paul Sartre would hate this song.
‘My Young Arms’ is slower, spacier and a little more in line with our expectations of the Riots as the spiritual sons of Sigur Ros. A satisfying mixture of smooth guitar picking, a gently whirring helicopter of a synth pad and a softer McMinn vocal, doubled wonderfully in the chorus, the song is both dreamlike and precise.
We’re almost propelled into Vangelis territory in ‘Glasgow Spaceflight’, with its fat Eighties synthesiser chords, reminding me a little of the scoring of that haunting beach scene at the beginning of ‘Manhunter’, but the show stopper is undoubtedly the desolate, crystalline title track. The story of a bereaved man obtaining spiritual comfort from a massed choir under a vast, icy Moscow skyline is captured in epic form and exquisite detail. The minimal, echoing piano is almost sufficient accompaniment for McMinn’s gorgeous, unbearably sad lines:
I heard you got washed away
I hope you’re all right
And if you ever need me, shine a light at the sky.
The influence of Explosions in the Sky (and Sigur Ros again) surfaces in the monumental instrumental section in the middle, with the choir delivering a spine-chilling thrill near the close. (Oddly enough, the wife-elect seized on this track while I’ve been listening to it and demands it be included on our wedding reception i-Pod playlist, which demonstrates how magnificent music can transcend context; the record’s own blurb describes it as funereal). It’s a fitting end to a wonderful, life-enhancing EP, and the very best news is that the band is holed up in Bath recording their debut album. From a slow start, The Winchell Riots are finally making their move.