Not so much borrowing the robes of the masters of the dolorous romance, as stepping into their shoes.
Wasn’t the Luddite concept that is ‘unplugged’ designed solely to scupper the likes of [a]Cousteau[/a]? A band evoking everything that is romantic and tear-choked in pop, they teeter on a swelling swoon of sound and layers of luxurious orchestration (just check out their self-titled debut LP released late last year). Strip away that surfeit of orchestral grace, and surely you sacrifice their magic?
Not so. While bare piano, stripling violin and brittle guitar tonight colour what was once opiated sighing grace, Liam McKahey‘s vocals are so finely upholstered, he could front Korn and still seduce your heart. As a desolate ‘Your Day Will Come’ oozes melancholy, McKahey‘s languorous voice hangs in the air like cigarette smoke. The sound swells gently behind him, the guitar clicks and scratches, and [a]Cousteau[/a] are no longer the indie Walker Brothers, but the living spirit of the Love Unlimited Orchestra, all understated, sighing grandeur.
Here, and on the likes of previous single ‘Last Good Day Of The Year’ (a truly [I]great[/I] song), [a]Cousteau[/a] tear past the pretenders who’ve used a string section to mask their essential slightness. Not so much borrowing the robes of the masters of the dolorous romance, as stepping into their shoes.