Slowdive – The Shining Breeze Anthology

The early 90’s was a period in rock journalism where every hack seemed anxious to invent a genre, “Shoegaze” being the biggest contradiction of them all, covering the dream-pop resonance of Chapterhouse to the conventional pop-jangle of Revolver. Some shared a sound (Ride, Swervedriver, Curve) due to sharing a producer, Alan Moulder practically a staffer at Creation Records. Others were lumped in because they just looked the part – Catherine Wheel, Pale Saints, even Adorable. Whilst the ethos was naïve (the moody videos, the gloriously over the top “our middle class lives are hell” lyrics), the music was mostly wonderfully noisy and hugely exciting. Ride’s first two LP’s in particular contain enough good songs to make one incredible album, and all these bands had their moments, from Chapterhouse’s “Pearl” to Lush’s “Sweetness and Light”.

For some reason, towards the close of the first quarter of the decade the whole movement became something of an embarrassment and the subject of much ridicule, from snippy comments in the NME to ‘hilarious’ sketches from the likes of Rob Newman. One band though became the whipping boy for the movement, receiving far more than their fair share of abuse. Slowdive, declared Manic Street Preachers, was a band they hated more than Hitler, a frankly ludicrous statement that should cause even insanely stupid people to goggle in disbelief.

Lets remember that the band being insulted here consisted at the time of a bunch of people barely into their twenties, who unless I missed it (I was pretty young and naïve myself at the time) had not invaded any countries, formed a fascist army or committed any mass genocides. They just made great records, but for some reason it became fashionable to deny this. Even as I thunder headlong into my late thirties my thin skin causes me to lumber into a slough of depression if someone leaves a sarky comment on a review I’ve written (so please be gentle on me). I have huge admiration then that not only did Slowdive manage to brush off all this abuse, but continued in the midst of it to write such fantastic songs, as evidenced here on this two disc collection.

This anthology cobbles together tracks from a variety of sources, from the three albums they released on Creation and also a number of EP’s. After forming in Reading in 1989, their first EP was in fact their original demos, and two of those songs are here, opening track ‘Slowdive’ lesson one in shoegaze with its noisy cascades of guitar and ‘Avalyn 1’ lesson two, in its dreamy, shimmering landscapes. Most of these early songs were collected together for the 1992 compilation Blue Day, but it is nice to see the inclusion of the Syd Barrett cover ‘Golden Hair’ which was omitted from that release.

The strongest tracks from their debut are also here, particularly the gorgeous ‘Erik’s Song’. It is a calming, mournful instrumental, every bit the equal of Kid A’s ‘Treefingers’, soft swathes of guitar with an inner ear rumble of water and nature. The stately ‘Celia’s Dream’ is sadly missing, but thankfully they have included ‘Primal’, the album closer. The years have stripped it of some of its power, and it sounds rather primitive now, but the extended outro remains a magical blend of cello, layered guitars and Rachel Goswell’s reverbed vocals.

Just For A Day’s biggest problem was another album released at a similar time, Loveless receiving all the press and adoration. The latter clearly is the better album, but there is still much to explore in Slowdive’s debut. However, it was on album number two that they really found their feet, despite the abuse thrown their way. Souvlaki starts very much like its predecessor, opening tracks ‘Alison’ and ‘Machine Gun’ very much in the shoegaze style. However, the collaboration with admirer Brian Eno takes their music to a new place, ‘Sing’ burbling with electronics and distant drums. The real treat though is ‘Souvlaki Space Station’, echoing guitars and a trippy, dublike bass building upwards and upwards to a backdrop of incomprehensible yet utterly captivating lyrics.

For some baffling reason though, the best song from Souvlaki, and in my mind the best song of their career, has been omitted. ‘When The Sun Hits’ is nearly five minutes of pure heaven, a nearly perfect song elevated to greatness by chiming choral guitars and a deep, soothing rhythmic mix of bass and drum. It ends so quickly, on Goswell and Halstead’s shared vocal, your mind wishing it to continue as it slowly fades. Its absence makes this release a poorer collection, particularly with the overrated ‘Dagger’ ending this part of their story.

For their third and final album, Slowdive changed tack. There were tensions within the band and with Creation, and few can blame them for wishing to move away from all they were criticized for being. Pygmalion was mostly ignored on its release, but is a fine collection of textural, sometimes electronic songs, often with minimal lyrics. The highlight is ‘Blue Skied An’ Clear’, smooth and haunting with the little instrumentation adding to its dreamlike quality.

Slowdive were dropped within weeks of the release of their final album. Halstead and Goswell went on to found the equally excellent Mojave 3, signing to 4AD, Halstead releasing a solo album Oh! Mighty Engine in 2008. Both in interviews seem content with their lot, and show no grudges for what they had to deal with at the time. Slowdive, in my mind, are worthy of reappraisal. Whilst the sound does now sound a little dated these are songs of innocence and power, full of emotion, and for many reasons deserve to be remembered.