The Declining Winter – Last April
Morrissey once sang that there is a light that never goes out. I reckon Richard Adams, central figure in The Declining Winter, may well use these words as his personal mantra, given his prolific and creative aptitude in recent years. ‘Last April’ follows on the heels of last year’s excellent ‘Really Early, Really Late’. When the band toured late last year, he’d already prepped another entire album of so-called ‘Buried Songs’, ideas that were written and recorded between 2018-21, but placed on a shelf because they didn’t feel quite right for inclusion on an album at that time.
‘Last April’ may reference one of the months of Spring, but it definitely has more of a somewhat autumnal feel, thanks in part at least to the beautiful strings contributed by Sarah Kemp. Songs are intentionally instrumentally sparse throughout, which makes for a lot of space for the songs to really breathe. Songs are built in layers, generally leading with an acoustic guitar, then adding a voice, and then strings. Songs don’t follow the standard verse/chorus/verse structure; instead they’re allowed to slowly develop and unwind, almost as a flower might open up in a vase.
In many ways, the album is a lesson in restraint. It’s not about what’s being added, but instead it’s all about what’s been taken away or omitted. It’s often the case that albums add layers and add additional layers until the songs become buried under a sea of sound. Here, it’s very much the opposite; Richard has consciously chosen to allow the recordings to be free of what isn’t required to be present. Mark Hollis of Talk Talk once commented, “Before you play two notes, learn how to play one note, y’know? And don’t play one note unless you’ve got a reason to play it”. Richard has taken these words almost as a mantra during the recording of ‘Last April’.
In addition, this feels like a deeply personal collection. Richard discusses people and places like he’s flicking through moments in his diary. Take August Blue: “But you’re not here and I’m to blame”, or the title track Last April: “All I want is to hear your voice… just a single line”. There are moments of regret, reflection, tenderness, loss. And of course happiness in remembering nice moments – either through a feeling of knowing one’s self, or appreciating the beauty of the world around us.
Some things, particularly the more personal ones, can only be written about and fully appreciated as we age. Richard tackles these with affection, and in addition, he has a knack of describing those perfectly normal things around us (in ‘Lime Tree House’) that we simply take for granted, such as a tree swaying in the garden, the TV in the corner of the lounge, or the central heating being switched on. It’s this kind of subtle and unremarkable imagery that encourages us to consider the small things in the personal world around us that forms a central theme to this album.
This isn’t an album of big choruses, sweeping solos, or majestic highs. It’s actually much better than this, much more personal… it’s an album of intricate and delicate layers, intricately woven together through personal storytelling.
There are numerous high points, but ‘August Blue’ is arguably a standout track. It begins with an almost-silent rhythm in the background accompanied by the most gentle of guitar riffs, before strings add to the vocals. The centrepiece of the song feels cathartic, almost like a moment of optimism… the sun coming out on an otherwise cloudy day.
Fans of Talk Talk, epic45, July Skies should dive right in.
~Available from Nov 1st on limited edition CD and vinyl from Bandcamp.~