Album Review: Esben and The Witch - Violet Cries

There's no denying that Matador took a bit of a punt when they signed Esben and The Witch last year on the back of a handful of recordings - in the process making the Brighton trio the first British act to join their ranks in over six years. Fast-forward six months, and the January release of this, the band's debut album, makes them among the first of the BBC Sound Of 2011-listed acts to face the verdict of the buying public. Look beyond the hype, the esteemed company they now find themselves in, and the promotional shock tactics of their videos, though, and what are we left with? Will Violet Cries see E&TW scale the same critical and commercial heights achieved by past Sound Of... tips like Foals (whom they've toured with) and Florence and The Machine (with whom they share certain similarities, not least in singer Rachel Davies' bottomless caterwaul)? Or will it make them lambs to the slaughter, destined to be forgotten about in twelve months after a stillborn rise to (non-)fame?
 
Sadly, for all the pre-game build-up, the reality is that precious few of these ten tracks are really worth getting worked up over. The blurbs and pull quotes surrounding the album's release would have us believe the band are peddling a uniquely atmospheric brand of goth-tinged 'nightmare pop': think Siouxsie Sioux babysitting The xx. The truth is less kind: yes, there are faint traces of both those acts' influence here, but even though things start out on the right path - opener 'Argyria' has a well-judged slow-build, while lead single 'Marching Song' gets the darkness-and-light mix just about right - it isn't long before it all becomes disconcertingly vague and unfocused. Comparisons to the likes of Portishead and Kate Bush seem patently ridiculous at this point; whereas those artists are masters of their game, locked into a set of musical gears that directs their every note, there's a looseness to much of Violet Cries that suggests - rightly or wrongly - that Esben aren't altogether sure of what it is they're trying to achieve. The middle third is particularly limp, songs like 'Light Streams' and the almost-laughably-bad 'Chorea' throwing a variety of forced, goth-lite shapes to unconvincing effect. The lyrics, meanwhile, are just plain embarrassing at times, Davies' excessively echoing voice spouting all manner of half-baked nonsense about rabbits' legs, "a terrible hex" and "cutting the sun from its moorings".
 
'Eumenides' and current single 'Warpath' offer some cause for hope towards the end: the former a rare example of restraint from the trio that rides out astride a thundering Warpaint-esque crescendo, the latter a claustrophobic mélange of swirling effects and defiant guitar - and the only time the band really approaches the "moody malevolence" the weekend supplements would have us believe they specialise in. Unfortunately it's a case of damage limitations too late in the day, and this relatively strong finish can't rescue what amounts to a majorly disappointing debut and grounds, perhaps, for a quality-control memo to be circulated at Matador HQ. Violet Cries ultimately comes off a bit like a big-budget school play: plenty of pomp and ceremony, but decidedly amateurish and lacking in conviction. Now where did I leave my copy of Daisy Dares You's album?...