Lamb - What Sound
by Dominic Pettman

 

Lamb emerged in the mid-1990s in the wake of the Bristol model of the "trip-hop duo": winsome female siren out front, male broody-type twiddling buttons and/or cutting vinyl in the background. However, even with their first self-titled album, Lamb stood out from the imitators with their particular production style, and the eccentric character of Louise Rhode's voice and lyrics.

Now that Portishead, the group that started it all, have all-but-vanished completely, Lamb are still going strong. In fact, they are improving with age. Lamb's previous album, Fear of Fours (their second), had some great moments, however Rhodes's voice was masked by digital effects that ultimately distanced the listener from the songs. Thankfully they have returned this centre-piece to its naked beauty with What Sound.

The lyrics are still obscenely happy, but the music has a pulsing angst to it that balances all the smiles, and rainbows, and cosmic harmony. Indeed, I wouldn't have it any other way, since Rhodes's spiritual tendencies are obviously a significant part of the often-sublime final product. (If she ever does a depressed "breakup" album, it will either be astonishingly brilliant, or utterly awful.)

This album begins with a great shudder, like a giant metallic pulse trying to wake up from hibernation, and the complex beats and arrangements (courtesy of Andy Barlow) manage to continually pull the rug out from the listener's ears, without damaging the basic ballads or pop songs that they support. What Sound is their most consistent effort to date, without one dud track, and Gabriel is the sequel to one of the greatest love song's of all time, Gorecki.

Unlike almost every sequel in history, it is just as good (if not quite as epic). And this is why Lamb deserve more credit than they are likely to get. They have given us some of the most beautiful music of the last few years, and with a formula that so easily could have collapsed into mediocrity.