“From as far back as I can remember, I've been a drifter
The drifting life is a lonely life but the only life I know”
Twenty-one years on since the Wirral outsiders stormed the scene with their anarchic self-titled anarchic debut, they released ‘Sea of Mirrors’ via Run On and Modern Sky UK Records back in September.
Image and artwork courtesy of Perspective Communications.
After a brief dip on 2010’s ‘Butterfly House’, The Coral have delivered four studio albums of remarkable substance. The heavy psyche of ‘Distance Inbetween’ and folksy-cum-La’s melodies of ‘Coral Island’ lead that pack. So, where did ‘Sea Of Mirrors’ stack up?
During the ‘10s, their fine albums explored new but quite natural avenues of their sound. Then, on ‘Coral Island’, they ever so slightly nudged their melodic poise toward the weird and wonderful sonic of ‘The Coral’ and ‘Magic Medicine’. Now, on ‘Cycles Of The Seasons’ and ‘North Wind’, their mature worldview steps resplendently back into their youthful realm. The former looked at ‘Calendars and Clocks’ and ‘Don’t Think You’re The First’ and nodded in approval. Meanwhile, the caressing beauty of ‘North Wind’ feels like a fully formed and joyfully content ‘Careless Hands’.
With Coral Island being a double album and ‘Sea of Mirrors’ being accompanied by a physically released only album, one has to wonder just how much The Coral has in the arsenal. The two tracks mentioned have great folk orchestration calling Weller’s fine reinvention on ’22 Dreams’, an almost double album. The beauty, peculiarity, and effortlessness of ‘Sea of Mirrors’ never deviates from this state of wisdom and quality.
However, there are several moments of darkness throughout the album. ‘Ocean’s Apart’ captures why fans love their rebellious ways:
“It's been the same since I was a little kid
When I see the desert I see an ocean
When I see an ocean I see a desert
Each the image of the other
A sea of mirrors, and here I am
Caught between both the form and the reflection
Between fact and fiction”
The torment of not fitting in and drifting relationships as a consequence has taken its toll:
“I love you, yes, I love you
From your smile to your scars
But we're oceans apart”
This ode to fallen stars earning their living at the arse end of their industry sparkles when Cillian Murphy recites Nick Power’s poetry in the closing stages. It gives it an innocence that eases the sense of regret permeating throughout. Blink, and you’d miss the anguish amid the cinematic orchestration. Latter-day Weller and Richard Hawley’s enriching souls swoon across horizons here to offer hope amid the despair.
The title track, ‘Sea of Mirrors,’ continues the feeling of uneasiness, of not knowing if up is down. Twenty-one years as outsiders, as pioneering drifters, has left them feeling “no help can be found when the world sinks into the ground”. The strings are beset with the creative grandeur of Love (the band), which soundtrack the bands struggle to co-exist:
“From my window seat, I see a stranger sleep
Visions of a war long since past
An enemy, a friend, a battle 'til the end
The flags have been lowered to half-mast”
No matter the inner turmoil, The Coral remains outwardly mesmeric. This is no traditional journey back to the start, but the fleeting moments they pop into their beatnik spirit are delivered with middle-aged suffering and a creative masterfulness to revel in. ‘Sea Of Mirrors rightly takes it place in the upper echelons of their catalogue.