Long out of print, Folk Implosion’s second album, Dare To Be Surprised, originally dropped in 1997 via the Communion Label. Moderately well received at time of release, it has remained a quirky, indie-lo-fi secret amongst fans, lacking the instant punch of Natural One (from the largely Barlow-composed Kids soundtrack) and the major label support of One Part Lullaby, but somehow capturing something of the band’s unique essence, especially on tracks like the slinky insinuation or the still-beautiful Burning Paper. As such, it’s return to the vinyl format, some 28-years after it first dropped is most welcome, especially for those who missed out the first time around.
The package
Keeping things simple, Joyful Noise have opted to focus on the audio first and foremost, pressing the remastered album on high-quality, white vinyl. Otherwise, it’s a bare bones package that comes housed in a simple, slip-on sleeve with printed liner. The artwork has been rejigged slightly, with the liner keeping the original photo of the band feeding ducks but losing a rather odd image of them looking mildly disgruntled while holding binoculars. The swirly scrawl found on the CD, meanwhile, has been relocated to the side 2 label, and it largely feels faithful to the original release. Otherwise, there’s no download card included – an increasingly regular annoyance – and the only other element of note is the hype sticker on the front, which includes the barcode and some basic blurb about the record. All in all, it’s a solid, good-looking reissue of a well-loved record and something of a must for fans.
The album
For an album that often finds itself in the lo-fi category, Dare To Be Surprised was always a great sounding record. With elements of indie, dub, hip hop, and rock all squirreled away within the fourteen tracks on offer, it’s a wide ranging and often brilliant record. It’s also comical to see the atypical disclaimer that “no analog recording equipment was used in the production of this record”, especially in these analogue obsessed times. Meanwhile the fact that it was recorded to video tape was something that I remember capturing my attention when the album was first released.
For this new pressing, the album has been remastered by Pete Lyman (Rival Sons, Tom Waits, Weezer), and the results are impressive, the core components neatly centred, while disparate elements (such as the squelchy synth on Pole Position) sit comfortably on the fringes, adding depth without overpowering the sound. Otherwise, it’s a nice, transparent upgrade that proves both quieter and slightly darker than the original CD master.
The album opens with svelte rocker Pole Position, which sets out the band’s stall nicely. With deftly intwined vocals and an uneven tempo, it’s a brilliant opener, nodding to Lou’s work in Sebadoh, but immediately providing The Folk Implosion with its own identity at the same time. It’s followed by Wide Web, which finds Lou and John trading lines over a dub-infused backing, all probing bass and twinkling synth. One of those songs where there’s a subtle undercurrent of menace to be found amidst the guitars, there’s always the threat that it could explode, although it’s warm strings rather than the stinging firepower of an amp that provides the track with its emotional core. Third track, Insinuation, is not only an album highlight, but it also provides the blueprint for One Part Lullaby with its looped percussion and memorable chorus. One of those tracks that just seems to keep growing, I don’t remember the guitars burning with quite so much fire on my CD copy, while the layered vocals are beautifully constructed to keep the song moving briskly forward.
Having firmly established the band’s sound, Lou and John promptly change tack, opting for a slinky, lo-fi jazz piece titled Barricade. It’s long been one of my favourite tracks, and I remember a friend of mine learning the entire lyric, such was his love of the song. Emerging from the sound of the roaring ocean and providing a reminder of the band’s hard rock antecedents, the scratchy That’s The Trick has a dirty, sabbath-infused riff and a punk-rock chorus, just to make sure you’re still paying attention, before Checking In returns us to the dub / hip hop stylings of Insinuation. Based around a spidery, cyclical riff and backed by a simple drum loop, it’s a sweet little song that once again underscores the wonderful harmonies John and Lou enjoy dreaming up. The side wraps up with the similarly slinky Cold Night, which packs a lot of lyrics into less than 90-seconds.
Opening side 2, the twitchy dub of the instrumental Park Dub recalls the best moments of the Beastie Boys circa Hello Nasty, with the only complaint being that it’s too darn short. It’s followed by the wonderful Burning Paper, a brilliantly heartfelt little track that captures the crippling anxiety of trying to express yourself, the soundtrack moving between sketched-out verse and a more whimsical chorus. More than just an album highlight, it’s one of the best tracks from a deeply impressive catalogue, and it was such a delight when they aired it on their recent run of UK dates. Clearly the band recognised its potential too, for its followed by the short instrumental coda (Blank Paper) – which, surprisingly, makes you realise just how much the dub-influenced guitar line echoes the work of Fugazi around the same era. In contrast, a darker indie track titled Ball & Chain is waiting around the corner. It’s pure Harmacy-era Sebadoh, from the toms that help to ground the guitars, to the oddly chopped-off melody of the chorus. It’s followed by the nursery-rhyme round of Fall Into November, which takes Row Row Row Your Boat, repurposing it as a multi-part indie rocker.
The final two tracks of this ever-changing album find the duo at their most eclectic. First up, the aptly named title track twists and turns across a number of genres, taking in hip hop, indie, rock, and dub along the way. It leaves River Devotion to round out the album on an odd note. While the intro suggests some sort of cinematic composition, the band head in a more whimsical direction, juxtaposing the airy verse against moments of synth-infused darkness that catch the listener unawares. With the band seemingly still evolving their sound right in front of us, it’s a great song; it just doesn’t feel like a final song, and you can’t help but wish they’d wrapped it up with something more definitive although, of course, it left the door nicely open for the next album’s more refined approach.
Final thoughts
Joyful Noise have done a fantastic job of bringing Dare To Be Surprised back to vinyl. The album never seemed to receive the attention it so firmly deserved, making this timely reissue the perfect opportunity both for long-time fans and newcomers (enraptured by last year’s Walk Thru Me) to discover its charms. With faithful packaging and a solid remaster, it was more than worth grabbing a copy, and it provided a welcome chance to rediscover the album, hearing it once again with fresh ears – highly recommended. 9/10
