IO EARTH RETURN WITH AN EXTREMELY STRONG COLLECTION OF SONGS
The IO Earth project was started by Dave Cureton & Adam Gough in Birmingham 2007. They first came to my attention with their remarkable debut studio album, the self-titled 2009 release. I regard 2012’s Moments as one of the finest albums I own in an extensive collection; so good, in fact, that any band would struggle to reach those heights ever again, rather like the relentlessly ridiculous headlines you saw on every single AC/DC album “their best since Back in Black” & etc. ad nauseum and as a somewhat older, wiser human being and music reviewer, I try my very best not to look back, engage in pointless reminiscence, comparison, and simply examine each album I am blessed to write about on its own merits, and on that basis Sanctuary more than fulfils my expectations of a serenely good collection of progressive rock tracks.
Sanctuary is their seventh studio release and is notable for the return to the fold of Norwegian songstress Linda Odinsen, who we last saw on vocal duties in 2015’s double album, New World. She left not owing to any artistic differences, but to the logistics of being in an English band based in Norway, difficulties we are assured are now resolved.
Joining Cureton, Gough, and Odinsen are the returning long-term collaborators Luke Shingler on sax & flute and Christian Nokes on bass, together with Tim Wilson on drums. Guest musicians are Ami Oprenova on violin, Jennie Appleyard on cello, and Wendy Vissers-Hagenbeek on backing vocals.
Before discussing the music, a word about the stunning artwork, in itself a reason not to only buy digital music, but to own physical product. The images, especially of the snake departing the screaming woman, are simply stunning. If I still had a vinyl player, I would love to see this on gatefold.
Sanctuary, then. A refuge from persecution, somewhere to feel safe and protected, traditionally in European history a church, or even within oneself. There are nine tracks on the album and the power inherent in IO Earth’s music is as welcome as ever. There is an overarching theme here and my take is that this is an album referencing personal trauma but coming out the other side. I expand on this at the end of my review.
Opening track is Outside, with the lyrics talking about feeling fine on the outside but broken on the inside. The official video is embedded below, and it is a wonderfully clever work of art with the analogous animated toys interacting in the child’s bedroom, the male figure fixing the female but, ultimately, sacrificing himself because the key to the female was broken and he gives his to her. The guitar solo is emphatic, the vocals and voices dramatic, and this is a supremely solid start to proceedings.
Running follows, and I recently posted this as my Video of the Week, but it is here for you again. The opening vocals are frightened and delicate, with the subject in a time bubble whilst the world rushes outside. She is literally on her own whilst everything and everybody takes no notice whatsoever with the flashes of light and thumping thunder of the drums providing the portent of a storm to come. When it arrives, there is a wonderful explosion of noise when Cureton riffs and screams he never wanted to be alone, with the ethereal voice above and the band’s sound rising. The tempo of Odinsen’s vocals pick up after this in what is essentially a very good pop/prog track with the distance between her and band also a feature of the theme. The riffs and the keys turn utterly dystopian after Cureton’s second vocal burst, and this is about as heavy as the band have sounded. The closing passage is emotional vocally and very quick paced instrumentally with Gough producing some weird sounds on his Korg and the world finally stopping for the vocalist walking through the city. Extremely impressive stuff.
The title track is up next, and we have another official video for you to enjoy. A child enters a ruined house with some gorgeously fragile vocals singing about finding sanctuary. The video and the track take an altogether darker turn with two older people now exploring an obviously war torn complex, the scars of conflict marked on construction and humans with the child I believe desperate to escape a deep mental trauma, wanting them to let him go. Some of the keyboards remind one of the kinds of dark electronica heard back in the day, and the voices and drums add to this sense. The guitar solo when it arrives drips with emotion before leading the band into another very heavy closing passage.
The Child follows this. Just short of nine minutes long, the piano opening is melancholic with some more noises bringing a sense of foreboding before Odinsen’s quite beautiful vocal talks of the child alone in the corner, in the cold and the dark far from her home, and that is it lyrically (although it is reprised later). The acoustic guitar is sumptuous, Nokes and Wilson impress with a very strong underscore beneath the wailing guitar riff and soaring keys, this is a track dripping with sadness and two minutes from the close, the guitar leads the band with a massive symphonically heavy wave of music building up to a tremendous flush of emotional noise before a mournful cello and chimes represent a child in despair. A stunning track.
Close By is the shortest track on the album just over five minutes long, although it must be said that the band have resisted putting in any huge epic length tracks, choosing instead to provide us with a set of songs which seamlessly meld together and are manageable. The song is a gentle ballad, soothing after the nightmares which preceded. Odinsen has a lovely voice, and it is highlighted very well on this song accompanied by a nice piano. At times, she makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up without ever raising the octave level, the sign of an accomplished artist.
Airborne immediately has a completely different feel with some more dark noises infiltrating the senses, and Cureton speaking his vocals inviting us to turn off our screens of constant memes, and this combined with the guitar does feel very (later) Floydian. He and Odinsen combine vocally in a nice harmonious manner and when the track expands you get the real sense of a disastrous relationship breakdown. However, when Odinsen screams out restart our hearts this leads to a heart melting vocal sequence followed by a huge set of riffs. This moves into Changes, the longest piece at 9:06.
Some nice key notes, a lovely violin, and acoustic guitar are our overture, with a gorgeous flute leading to the introduction of Odinsen. The bass guitar which follows the initial vocal throbs with intent, and, as ever with IO Earth, when the band explode, it is a symphonic delight in a song I believe signifies the end of the dystopia and harsh memories which preceded and heralds the change of mentality in moving onward without dark reflection. As such, it is distinctly uplifting, a wall of sound is created, and lyrically the truth of we are wise for the sum of our years is knowing, with your fate in your hands and the need to change and escape the past. The closing orchestration is simply beautiful.
So, to Sunshine, the penultimate track just a tad shorter than Changes. After some opening parrying, the riffs which charge into your ears are vital. The vocals talk about shadows stealing secrets and leaving a broken heart, but of the need to wake and see the sunshine and believe (in you & me). There are some more very heavy riffs before Odinsen calms matters down leading to Shingler playing a gorgeous passage on his soprano sax, Gough perfect on the piano accompanying, and then there is a guitar solo which simply oozes class, distorted in parts. By this time, all of us have arisen from the hurt and the fear and are rising to the top of the hill on a wonderfully sunny day and life.
The album closes with Won’t Be Afraid and the acoustic guitar provides for a gentle introduction and comedown from the close of the previous song, and this mood is perpetuated by Odinsen gently singing to us. In this track, the night ends, we take flight from it, and whatever happens and whatever it takes, we will survive. The synths and bass combine to produce some interesting noises alongside percussion before the guitar, strings, and vocals take over to produce something simply achingly sad and reflective before the closing vocals and lyrics give a sense of defiance in not being afraid, perhaps wary of repeating past mistakes?
Regular readers will know that I like to interpret the meaning of songs and how they relate to what I am hearing or, indeed, feeling, rather than simply saying this guitar solo sounds like Gilmour in the second movement of WYWH, or that passage is “classic neo-prog” (whatever that means) and other such blandishments. In personal terms, this album recalls a childhood growing up with parents who loved me, but sometimes had a strange way of showing it owing to the fact they had become desperately unhappy in that marriage. They escaped this and then each found happiness, as did I by moving on from the nightmarish scenario that to a child anger and familial violence can bring. Now, I know not whether this is what Messrs Cureton & Gough intended when they wrote this album, but it matters not one jot. It is what it says to me, and it is a very profound work to this mind and these ears as a result.
Sanctuary is a fine album, and you can purchase it from https://ioearth.com/store/ Please do support the artists who bring us such wonderful music.