We all return to change.
We all have time to change.
We swim against the tide,
look back into the past.
We all do anything.
We live in unconditional change.
That's a bloody relevant way to start one of the most unfashionable yet brilliant records of 2010! For Delphic, 2010 has been a year of pretty widespread press ignorance, especially on the wry side of the Atlantic, being far from many end-of-year lists. In this way, Acolyte, the Manchester outfit's debut album, is a key descriptor of the late '00's shift in indie trends, towards the American-dominated sounds of lo-fi, folk and chillwave. British indie, meanwhile, has been stuck in a hell of a rut. Post new-rave and garage-revival, UK indie and alternative acts have been perplexed as to where to head, and as a result, very few British albums of 2009 and 2010 will probably become legendary (forget The xx for a moment, will ya?). Pitchfork rules the world, and the more navel-gazing the music, the better.
So, Delphic hasn't exactly been the critics' choice. Rock with synthesizers just isn't as hot as guys with beards playing acoustic guitars, and perhaps it never really has been the shizzle this century, at least outside of Denmark, where bands like VETO, Spleen United and Turboweekend have been among the most prominent of the country's sudden surge in independent music.
But how can you resist? When 'Clarion Call' kicks off in a massive crescendo at 1:26, how can you not be drumming your fists into thin air? How can you help nodding along to 'This Momentary''s insistent, four-on-the-floor beats and chanting, haunting vocals? How can you ignore the brilliance of the pivotal track, 'Acolyte' itself, which surges like a tsunami again and again, and clusterbombs you with swooning, rapturous synthesizers? Or when the album fades away with 'Remain', a post-crescendoic blissful nirvana?
Wearing its Haç-heritage pretty visibly on its sleeves seems to often override the fact that Acolyte really isn't exactly the floor filler it's often proclaimed to be. I see it more as a listening record, and while being sometimes slightly characterless; it cleverly manages the oft-attempted fusion of rock and electro, avoiding most of the pitfalls. So Pitchfork gave it a 5.0 grade? I bloody hell couldn't care less - this is one of the most menacingly intense and engrossing albums of 2010!
Why not swim against the tide, as the opening stanza states, we live in unconditional change anyway?
