The Caretaker - Persistent Repitition of Phrases (History always favours the winners)

Although originally released in 2007, HAFTW have now made this beguiling album now available in very limited edition vinyl, the format that the piece was originally designed for. Those not au fait with the music of John Leyland Kirby should do so, though it’s important to note that his aesthetic stretches over a number of different genres, applying a distinctly post-modern dressing to the current state of British electronica, with all sorts of punky mash-ups and noise projects under his belt. The Caretaker guise seems a world away from some of the more anarchic output he’s produced, but underneath the faintly nostalgic sheen of his music lies without doubt a sombre, dark tone.

Kirby’s atmospheric meanderings conjure up a number of distinct mental thoughts, perhaps disturbingly so given some of the titles - most notably the idea of a small gramaphone player nestled somewhere in an abandoned music hall full of dust and memories. Think Kubrick’s famous bar scene in The Shining perhaps coupled with the terrifying dystopia of the remarkable videogame Bioshock, thoughts of art deco lettering lying abandoned in some magnificent structure like the De La Warr pavilion. Unlike the previous album “Stairway to the Stars”, the melodies and atmospheres here are much more firmly rooted in the past, the song “Rosy Retrospection” giving us an indication of this - plangent piano treated lightly with some echo and a covering of dust so thick that you can hear the scratches.

Of course this is all for subtly realised effect, but Kirby’s choices of samples do conjure up a powerful feeling of nostalgic sentiment that it’s hard not to be drawn into this mournful world of forgotten memories and yearning for the past. There’s a more subtle intertwining of the dark ambience with the wistful melodies here than in previous works, which makes for more compelling listening. “Long Term” takes a simple trope and twists it with a slight inversion and it suddenly takes on a more sinister tone, whereas in previous works, a standard ambient synth wash was enough. “Past Life Regression” grows with a satisfyingly slow menace, the atmosphere ebbing away at the point when it threatens to consume the listener.

On the whole, there’s a range of moods that articulate the narrative, which given the titles - “Lacunar Amnesia”, “False Memory Syndrome” and “Unmasking Alzheimers”  for example - deals with a sombre assessment of memory. The placement of long-gone melodies laces matters with an elusive sense of ambiguous emotion rare for ambient albums, and as such, a trip into The Caretaker’s world is highly recommended.

Toby Frith