Crying - Beyond the Fleeting Gales (2016)

The idea of a band “growing up” is often used in dismissive terms, but tracing the evolution of a band’s sound is one of the mediums most thrilling aspects, and the idea of maturation and growth certainly doesn’t have to be led by a propensity for mellowing or a softening of what came before. Crying’s “Beyond The Fleeting Gales” LP undoubtedly shows subtle signs of restraint when compared to what came before, the brilliant double EP release of Get Olde/Second Wind, but it never once feels deflated by such attributes and, in its most gleaming moments, still has the vigour to sweep you off your feet with one flash of its most majestic gusto.

Lead track “Wool In The Wash” is synonymous with this new-found curtailment, the mood shifting at unexpeced times throughout its four-minutes or so; that it’s also one of the most thrilling guitar-pop songs of the year is further proof that Crying’s progression is one of supreme splendour. There’s also another angle to all of this, and that’s the way that the band deliver profoundly important messages while sounding like they’re having the most fun possible. Latest single “There Was A Door” might sound like a breezy sugar-rush of squalling guitars but, as the band pointed-out earlier this week on Twitter, it’s actually about “coming out”; “All I’ve wanted for the place I live, is respect for this vessel I’m in” sings Elaiza Santos, as the track flies through its skewed and thrilling set-pieces.

The frenetic backdrop that underpinned so much of the work on those fabulous aforementioned EPs is still very much a pertinent aspect of the trio’s work, despite the opening gambit to this very review; it’s just that the whole thing feels more balanced here. The melodic heart that pumps so furiously throughout their work has learned when to recoil and readjust; when to let the body lie a little and recuperate. For every flash of unchecked instrumental decadence (the stirring “Patriot”), there’s a tempered, brooding moment of self-reflection to reign it all back in again (the wonderful “Well And Spring”). Again though, it’s important to state that never once does this recoiling feel like a sacrifice to what made their initial tracks such a thrilling ride, indeed this textural growth only makes the whole thing even more dramatically impressive. It’s the sound of Crying settling in to their skin, somewhat, and then using this grounding to explore new avenues and, in doing so, creating the best music of their career to-date.

Perhaps its the disparity between what you initially hear and what’s later indulged that makes Crying, and much of this record, such a dramatic, endearing proposition. For all their energetic swagger there’s an ingrained sense of importance here, and the idea that these songs will genuinely break through walls, or suddenly produce a door where there wasn’t one before, for someone who might be seeking guidance in such matters doesn’t just feel likely, it feels vehemently unquestionable. The trio have shaped their many influences in to a record that feels furiously wholesome; a perpetually evocative collection of songs that takes on more significance with each new leap in to its colourful, glowing, defiantly substantial world. And it’s this that makes “Beyond The Fleeting Gales” not just a commendable indulgence, but a positively essential one.