There can be few more embarrassing experiences for a reviewer than, when having heard an album only once all the way through, you are asked to comment intelligently upon it. For sure it would be easy to make some glib generalisation, but to go into any further depth is nigh on impossible, and yet this is the unfortunate position in which I found myself whilst speaking to Anthony, the band’s amiable and articulate bassist who reduced me to a stuttering wreck with the seemingly innocuous question “what do you think about the new album?” So, Anthony, if you should ever read this, please accept my humble apologies for being unable to answer the question in any more depth than “errrr, well I liked it!” – it was in no way a lack of interest upon my part, but rather a desire to actually have something to say that so effectively left me with my tongue flapping in the breeze.
Humiliating confessions aside, it is pleasing to report that the second part to Jolly’s epic ‘audio guide to happiness’ is an excellent piece of work that perfectly augments the first album, released over a year ago, and arguably offers even more in terms of variation and impact. Always planned as a two part work (part one contained phase 1 and 2 whilst this record offers up parts 3 and 4), Jolly are arguably one of the few bands today working within a genuinely conceptual progressive framework and, in their desire to craft a ‘guide to happiness’, they have concentrated on an area that prog has been hitherto unwilling to go. The first record was a thrilling body of work that was both diverse and challenging although it was rather overshadowed by the band’s much vaunted use of ‘binaural tones’, a scientific term used to denote the manner in which certain frequencies can affect the mood of the listener. The use of such tones (specifically applied throughout the two records) is, of course, an interesting process, but in making the public at large so aware of it (it was cheerfully plastered across the case and promotional literature) considerations as to the quality of the songs themselves often became rather secondary. This is a shame because the music – a colourful mix of searing metal, industrial, ambient and progressive – was largely phenomenal.
Picking up directly upon phase three, you are immediately warned by a disembodied voice “if you have not yet complete part one, please do so now before continuing,” and then drawn into a subtle, ambient trip that mixes up crushing, Terminator-esque percussion, mournful piano and waves of drone as it draws you towards the album’s crushing first track, the guitar-heavy ‘Firewell’, which neatly combines elements of Meshuggah, Tool, Filter, muse and a perfect circle for a track that is both memorably melodic and yet satisfyingly heavy at the same time. It is a measure of Jolly’s skills that they move with fluid grace through the various passages of the song, never sounding contrived or forced even when vocalist Anadale shifts from a mournful croon to a deathly scream as the riffs pile up behind him and the keyboards seep into the mix, ramping up the tension in the process. ‘You against the world’ slows the pace with the rhythm section offering up a lethargic take on Nirvana’s ‘in bloom’ whilst Anadale seems to be drifting off into his own psychedelic-tinged world, full of softly echoing guitars and whisper-thin keyboards. It’s an inspired mix of King Crimson and alternative rock, even finding a moment to segue (no really) into reggae without ever sounding anything less than natural – it’s a brave, and admirably crafted artistic departure that could so easily backfire if the band weren’t so utterly confident of their skills and song-writing nous. If the previous song was satisfyingly different, with its birdsong and gentle acoustic work ‘Aqualand and the 7 suns’ takes things in the direction of Mike Oldfield, its lush soundscapes seemingly out of time and space and yet the perfect sonic balm after the tumultuous barrage of ‘firewell’. The harmonies of Anadale and Anthony are to the fore here and their voices intertwine perfectly as the fretless bass slithers around the percussion and keyboards.
Having lulled you into a jazzy sense of security, Jolly change the pace considerably with the pile-driving riff of ‘dust nation bleak’, a song that shifts through a range of different moods before arriving at a riff so heavy it knocks you clean into the beautiful cleansing of ‘golden divide’, a track which mixes David Bowie, King Crimson and Radiohead to stunning effect. It is also the closing moment of part three, with only ‘guidance four’ standing as a segue to the final phase of the audio guide.
Phase four begins with the insane ‘lucky’ which opens in the manner of an 8-bit computer game before evolving into a twisted, chunky, syncopated riff that jars the senses whilst recalling Coheed and Cambria at their most oblique, the comical ending an unexpected twist that then sees the band reinvent themselves in the vein of Filter for ‘while we slept in burning shades’, a gorgeous pop tune with a strong rhythmic punch underpinning the melodies. ‘Despite the shell’ trips into ambient territory on its intro, before turning on its axis and delivering a jazz-fusion influenced track that inherits the distant ghost of Miles Davis and sends it staggering, amphetamine-fuelled, through the sonic fields of Nine inch nails and Pink Floyd, the ever shifting musical ground leading to some magnificent riffs that grind and snarl with real fire and ferocity. ‘As heard on tape’ is so stunningly lush that once again you’re reminded of the pastoral beauty attained by Mike Oldfield on ‘ommadawn’ and ‘tubular bells’ coupled with the smooth vocals of Mike Patton at his most relaxed. It’s a remarkably beautiful track, filled with a gentle sense of yearning, that leads, finally, to ‘the grand utopia’, a song that is as refreshing as the light spring rain with its whimsical keyboards, throbbing, slightly distorted bass and chunky guitars underpinning a melody that is part rock music, part soundtrack to a film not yet made.
How do you define a band like Jolly? Honestly, it’s possibly best if you don’t. The music here ebbs and flows across so many different moods and genres that to pin down the band is like trying to grab hold of a live and particularly contrary eel. What is clear is that Jolly have more than made good on the promise shown on the ‘audio guide to happiness part one’ album and, for a real audio treat, listening to these two wonderful works back to back is the sonic equivalent of immersing yourself in a warm bath. That is not to say Jolly do not know how to rock – tracks like ‘dust nation bleak’ are as brutal and as adrenalin charged as you could possibly wish for – it’s rather than Jolly’s remit is so much wider than simply plugging in and rocking out. This is music that is both heart-felt and cerebral and to be fully enjoyed it needs to be absorbed in one go, preferably with no further distractions. With a unique concept to their credit and ability to match, Jolly truly are a very special band who are tenacious, inventive and a genuine pleasure to listen to. This is, and will remain, one of the year’s most intriguing releases – Jolly have crafted a masterpiece.
