Introduction:
A half-glimpsed memory: It’s 1997 and I’m lying on a bed in a darkened room. The curtains flap gently in the breeze from the open window, and, on the stereo, Spiritualized’s Ladies and Gentleman We Are Floating In Space is playing at a volume that threatens the very foundations of the aging building. I can tell you nothing more about that day, but I can remember very clearly the layout of the room, the clothes I was wearing and even the weather outside – all etched in this little time capsule that somehow surrounds that particular album.
It’s a quirk of memory to be sure. Yet, certain moments do stay with you for life – and music is a great time machine. In truth, at 42-years-old, still as much in love with music as I was in 1997, my mind is full of such moments: the albums I love, irrevocably tied to places and people, and still imbued with the same emotions I felt when I first heard them.
And so, here we are again. This train of thought set in motion by the absolutely Floating Above Everything Else, the debut long-player from Dublin musician Keeley and a subtle, slow-burning masterpiece. Indeed, I’ve tried to write this review a few times now, only to find that the emotions of the piece overtake the process of critical evaluation, making this review no easy task.
Floating Above Everything Else
Keeley’s album is not of this time, or of any particular time. While elements nod to that amazing period during the 90s, when the likes of Spiritualized, Primal Scream, Mogwai, and Super Furry Animals all found their implausible way to (semi-)mainstream success; so, other aspects hark further back, encompassing a love of music rather than a love of genres. The result is less an album than a dreamscape, into which the listener finds themselves slowly slipping. I find myself wondering how many people, in these days of instant-fix, stream-now-dispose-immediately mentality, will take the necessary time to absorb the record in one go, as the wonderful performances demand, and decide this is a fruitless and mildly depressing consideration. The album will find its audience – it shines too brightly not to – and all Keeley’s fans can do is spread the word via whatever means they have at their disposal.
It opens with Seeing Everything, a slow-burning delight that seems to exist in a world where The Cure, Lush and Linoleum all regularly chart, and where lava lamps are still the must-have living room accessory. A hypnotic, dreamy track that seems to draw the listener into a world of little fluffy clouds and golden sunsets, it sets the tone for the album – poignant and reflective, but with a certain sense of hope – and I’m hooked already. The surprisingly upbeat Arrive Arrive is another track that recalls the skewed pop of The Cure, with its slightly bouncy percussion and dreamy guitars – a pace maintained on the subtly spiky The Glitter And The Glue, which has a gritty undercurrent that recalls sticky floors, spilled pints and overdriven amplifiers. Making a neat left-turn, the title track nods towards Primal Scream’s collaborations with Andrew Weatherall, the stabs of piano adding a subtle house influence, while the guitars drift into early Blur territory. In contrast, the slow-paced, hypnotic To A London Sunrise nods to The Cure and The Smiths. With its somnolent pace perfectly matched to the lyric, the song captures that strange mix of fear and elation felt by anyone arriving in a strange new world for the first time, and you can feel Keeley’s empathy with the brutally murdered Inga Maria Hauser, whose presence haunts the entire album. The first half spins to a halt with Echo Everywhere, a woozy piece that floats through the aether, Keeley’s voice settled in a bed of lush guitars and minimalist percussion
The second half opens with Forever’s Where You Are, a rare moment of blazing intensity that explodes out of the haze, with all the surprise ferocity of Pink Floyd’s The Nile Song, with which the track also shares certain sonic similarities, albeit filtered through the psychedelic glow of The Flaming Lips. It’s followed by the quirky pop of Never Here Always There, which repeats the title like a mantra over layers of gossamer-fine guitar. Then there’s the pulsing, synth-heavy You Never Made It That Far, which sounds like Blur and Low trading licks in an abandoned night club. A beautiful, inescapably sad piece, the electronic percussion adds to the Spartan feel of the arrangement, as Keeley reasserts her commitment to Inga. The Low vibe remains for the swooning beauty of Totally Entranced, as gorgeous a piece of music as you’ll find anywhere, which effectively captures the emotions felt when you find yourself wondering alone in some wilderness, staring at the sky and feeling only its enormity wash over you. The same can be said for the epic cover of Spiritualized’s Shine A Light with which Keeley closes the album. A stunning take on a much-loved song, Keeley stays true to Spiritualized’s unique sound, while placing her own stamp on the piece, with such success that it not only provides the album with a stunning finale, but it’s played with such strength of feeling that it feels like the onlypossible finale the album could have.
Made for vinyl, this lovely album is a hazy labour of love that sounds quite unlike anything else out there. Keeley is a remarkable songwriter. Driven by a unique muse, it is not her dedication to the cause of Inga Maria Hauser that makes this album so special, so much as her empathy for her subject. Keeley inhabits Inga, creating a moving sonic tribute that takes us on a meditative journey. With a lovely production, all the better for eschewing the modern tendency to polish everything into blandishment, and pitch perfect performances, Floating Above Everything Else is a very special record that ensnares the senses. 10/10
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