Over the years, there have been a number of labels which have served as benchmarks of quality – labels that I could always trust, whether I had previously heard of the artist or not. Labels such as Young God, Peaceville, or the late Trepanation, all of which have the common factor of being run by fans first and foremost, and all of which are crucial in bringing new sounds to eager ears. To this list, I would add the remarkable Trapped Animal Records, who first came to my attention through their amazing Headswim Reissue Series. Subsequently, they were kind enough to send me the stunning Chaos from The Baby Seals – an album which came to be one of my top albums of 2024 – and now Sunday Driver.
A truly unique act, Sunday Driver draw from so many influences, sometimes within the confines of a single song, that you rarely (if ever) know where they’re apt to take you next.
Versions
As ever, Trapped Animal have a done a fantastic job of bringing this unique album to the world. Ignoring the download, you can opt for a CD digi pack; gorgeous “blue galaxy vinyl” (reviewed here); an orange edition (both signed and unsigned); and a superfan bundle featuring CD, signed blue or orange vinyl, art prints, and a 3-month trial of the label’s record club.
For our money, the vinyl is the way to go, partly because it includes the lyrics, and partly because the stunning artwork is just made for the format. As we have come to expect from Trapped Animal, it’s a crackle-free pressing, with meticulous attention to detail, and the blue galaxy colouring looks simply gorgeous on the turntable.
The album
Silk And Filth slowly comes into focus with Malice Scourge. The track greets the listener with a pulsing drone – a rich sound that’s rarely heard in contemporary Western music and which is remarkably immersive thanks to the gorgeous, dynamic recording. It swells beautifully before slowly fading down to allow space for the eerie triphop of the title track. A cross between Massive Attack, Dead Can Dance, and Devendra Banhart, it’s a truly unique sound the band conjure. Supported by Kuljit Bhamra’s tabla and Geoff Williams’ sanguine cello, it’s music for the dusk and it’s best heard as the light slowly dims in time to the swell of the music. Try it and you’ll lose yourself heart and soul within the band’s rich soundscapes. When the pace does shift around the halfway mark, it adds a progressive flourish to Sunday Driver’s already considerable sonic arsenal, and you’re left wondering from what magical place the band draw their inspiration.
Things take a jazzier direction with Devils, a sultry piece that provides considerable space for Chandy’s gorgeous vocals. Reminiscent in parts of Low and The River, it’s a slow-paced, richly textured piece of music that leads us with seeming inevitability towards Bank Job – a longer composition that wraps up the first side with a weighty narrative that ebbs and flows across eight-and-a-half wonderful minutes. A multifaceted prog epic, it draws on elements of folk, post-rock, and drone to deliver an immensely satisfying piece of music so beautifully played and recorded that you could lose yourself within it for hours. In that sense, it recalls the wonderfully exploratory jazz LPs of the ‘50s, where the likes of Miles Davis tracked directly to tape, capturing their creativity in full flow.
Opening side B, Panda Ballet is a short, sweet piece of music that floats on a cloud of whimsy. It paves the way for one of the album’s most surprising tracks, the Dubstar-esque Les Amoureuses, which has more in common with indie rock than prog. With the band clearly enjoying the opportunity to cut loose a little, at the track’s conclusion we find James Clayton and Simon Richardson layering stabbed guitars over a repeated lyrical refrain of “I want to be noticed”.
The band return to slinky jazz with We Don’t Belong, which provides the soundtrack to an imagined film as a touch of southern European sun enters the fray. Imagine Gotan Project collaborating with Morcheeba and you have some idea of the light-touch wonder the track conveys. In contrast, the dark hearted Red Dragon leans more heavily on the drone aspects that opened the album, the airy sound of the tabla providing the only respite from Richard Bullen’s ominously prowling bass. It leads to a cacophonous crescendo, with guitars gathering like storm clouds, only to emerge from the other side, cleansed by the fire and all the brighter for it. Structured like a performative dance piece, it evokes images of brightly coloured dresses twirling in the firelight as the music just gets faster and faster.
Rounding out the album, The Death Of John Company is led by Eoin O’Mahoney’s solo piano, the melody coming uncertainly at first, slowly picking up speed, before dropping away entirely, leaving the listener feeling strangely bereft in the album’s luminescent wake.
The last few months have seen SonicAbuse somewhat inundated with truly original releases and Sunday Driver are no exception. The band seem wholly unconcerned with the wider musical landscape, creating something genuinely otherworldly from a range of disparate influences that make the music strangely timeless. Among these, you’ll find elements of Kate Bush, Peter Gabriel, Pink Floyd, Genesis, Caravan, Belly, and Dead Can Dance – but none of those artists are more than fleeting glimpses into the world Sunday Driver inhabit. For those seeking a voyage into the unknown. Silk And Filth is a journey very much worth undertaking. 9/10
