There is a definite aesthetic in the artistic process
developed by Pram that goes well beyond the simple fact
of making lovely music. Beauty is by no means a goal
for the Birmingham band, but it accounts for a lot in
the longevity of their unlikely pop and its influence
on a string of other formations that have emerged from
the city in the last decade. Often associated with Stereolab,
Pram may not be as familiar a name to the general public,
but have, in the course of six albums and a multitude
of Eps, created a more groundbreaking and convincing
work altogether.
Formed in 1990 by singer Rosie Cuckston, Pram first
got noticed with their first EP, Gash, originally
released through Howl Records, and later re-issued in
1997 with a few additional tracks. The band rapidly
established its playground instrumentations, based on
toy pianos, glockenspiels and glass hammers, and daring
melodies with their first long-player, The Stars
Are So Big So Big, The Earth Is So Small, released
in 1993 on London-based label Too Pure. After two more
albums for the label, Pram moved to Domino in 1998,
and after a few changes in the line-up, finally came
close to becoming a household name with their fourth
album, North Pole Radio Station. The Museum
Of Imaginary Animals, published two years later,
reaffirmed their position as Britain’s most intriguing
outfit, and with fellow Bromies Broadcast
by then gaining considerable recognition with a similar
blend of leftfield pop, it had become clear how influential
their music had been.
Dark Island sees Pram exploring unfamiliar
territories, injecting some elements of jazz and electronica
into their compositions, and generally drawing a darker
picture than on previous releases. As Cuckston continuously
treads a very fine line between melody and atonal abstraction,
especially on The Archivist, her voice proves
as captivating as ever as she tells hideous little tales
of lives and deaths with complete detachment. In turn
little girl or femme fatale, her interpretation contributes
greatly to the atmosphere of this album. The purposely
complex melodic lines and instrumentations contrast
more than usual with Cuckston’s vocals, slightly
destabilising the fragile balance which has been characteristic
of the sound of the band for over a decade. Alternating
between slow moving songs and more upbeat compositions,
Pram exploit the sleazy ambience of their sound fully,
exploring in depth a series of sonic landscapes they’d
only previously touched the surface of. If this affects
the aesthetic of their music, it also demonstrates the
maturity with which the band approaches its music these
days.
Ultimately Dark Island is not as difficult
a record as it seems. Pram retain enough familiar elements
to keep their audience satisfied, but, by challenging
the structures they have relied on for years and allowing
more space for them to develop, the band reaches a new
stage in their career. Perhaps not their best work to
date, the little imperfections that can be found on
Dark Island give this album a definite identity.
4.4/5 |
