REVIEWS . . .
Dave Cooper
Luna Rossa (Italian for 'red moon') is a new project from Panic Room's chief writers Jonathan Edwards (keyboards) and Anne-Marie Helder (vocals, guitar, flute). Given that, the first question that may come to mind is, "Why another project? Isn't this just Panic Room by any other name?" Well, no - although the instrumental stylings familiar to Panic Room fans are present and correct, "Sleeping Pills and Lullabies" is actually a different beast altogether. Not an addition to, or substitute for, Panic Room's catalogue, this is a companion piece, rather than pages from the same book. The album was recorded primarily by Jonathan and Anne-Marie writing and recording as a duo, albeit using a string group to flesh out the arrangements with added colour. Given Panic Room's use of a string group on their last album, "Skin", the perception may be that this is essentially Panic Room unplugged - but again, that is far less true than might be imagined.
For those familiar with Panic Room, one of the more familiar-sounding tracks is the opener, "The Dark Room". Opening with an eerie intro played on wine glasses, Jonathan's rolling piano gradually develops momentum as Anne-Marie sings a touching story about the titular dark room: a place where photographs are developed. The lyric touches on the idea of photographs as a means of preserving memories and emotions "in amber", capturing forever moments that are significant in our lives, and gives us some potent examples, stories-within-a-story, such as a young girl, an ambitious young man, and a couple whose relationship has fractured, all of whom are captured by the camera at crossroads in their lives. The track slowly dials up its momentum, featuring a chunky bass line, autoharp, gentle percussion and ultimately some restrained dobro.
The second track, "Heart On My Sleeve" opens with percussion akin to a heartbeat, yielding up a yearning piano-led ballad, featuring some especially effective and plaintive strings. The song concerns the value of being honest and truthful, and not pretending to be something other than what you are - being true to yourself. "I'm not like other girls", sings Anne-Marie, before going on to tell the listener that whilst honesty is not always valued, surely it is better than pretence, and of being frustrated by others who adopt masks to avoid facing up to themselves or opening up to others. "There is no time to build walls, now is our time to stand tall, and face them all". In many ways, this could be Anne-Marie's most confessional lyric to date, and her truly wonderful and clearly heartfelt vocal performance is a triumph.
Time for a change of mood now, and "Mad ABout You" doesn't disappoint in that regard: its jazzy, latin flavour delights with lush acoustic guitar, brushed percussion, and thick, resonant bass. Less personal and more playful than the previous tracks, it tells of the hazards of personal magnetism and obsession, experienced from both sides of the gender divide. After the emotive, introspective feel of the opening two tracks, this bright and breezy number is a reminder to the listener to expect the unexpected.
With cover versions ten a penny these days, it takes something really special for a cover to stand out from the crowd: something especially difficult to accomplish if your choice of song has already been tackled by luminaries like Peter Gabriel. Consequently, it's to Jonathan & Anne-Marie's credit that Luna Rossa's take on the Magnetic Fields' "The Book Of Love" is such a triumph. The song has a simple message - love is complicated unless you find the right person (perhaps it is no accident that it is placed after "Mad About You" in the running order!) - and that is reflected in its unfussy arrangement, which is for the most part a duet between voice and piano, with a simple but hugely effective harp line used to underpin the bridges between chorus and verse. The song is notable for two things: a delightfully wry reading by Anne-Marie of the simultaneously comic and affectionate lyrics and the fact that it features vocals from Jonathan – an expected but effective device.
"Scream At The Sky" harks back to Anne-Marie's much-loved solo acoustic performances, and whilst Jonathan's playful piano remains her chief foil, Anne-Marie's characteristic style of guitar playing underpins the track in a way existing fans of her solo performances will find delightfully familiar. The song concerns the tough side of relationships, where one person can't function effectively without the other person. "Do you want to do something stupid? Something to make us feel alive?" asks Anne-Marie, reminding us that often it is the little things that make all the difference.
It may seem almost a shame that a record that features work from an award-winning vocalist of Anne-Marie's calibre features an instrumental track, but that's exactly what "Leaving For The Last Time" is. Late night, minimal piano picks out a reflective, nostalgic melody, to develop into a beautiful duet with Anne-Marie's flute playing - a real treat for fans who may feel that it's a pity we haven't heard more of that facet of her music with Panic Room. The general feel is perhaps a little akin to Kate Bush's instrumental work - in fact it occurred to me that the track feels almost like a companion piece to Bush's "One Last Look Around The House Before We Go", something which the sympathetic title only strengthens.
Possibly the highlight of the album, the infectious "Fight Or Flight" is an instantly addictive delight. Percussion and steadily building piano give way to a great song with a hugely catchy chorus, with programmed drums and swelling strings adding urgency. The song concerns the feeling of being swept up in something and allowing instinct to override your brain, for better or for worse - "I don't know what I'm running from / I don't know where I'm bound" sings Anne-Marie, but the song feels buoyed up with a sweet surrender to where life is taking the protagonist that it's impossible not to feel that Luna Rossa revel in the idea of throwing their compass overboard and surrendering to the tides. An unalloyed joy.
"La Clef" provides another surprise - Anne-Marie singing in French! A gently lilting song, with gentle piano and strings, "La Clef" almost serves as a reassuring lullaby between two more striking and rhythmic tracks.
Another track that harks back to Anne-Marie's solo acoustic performances is "Rise Up". Primarily consisting of strong, strummed acoustic guitar and a vocal performance that can only be described as dynamite, this is possibly the song most like what people have experienced of Anne-Marie's previous work. Although the track starts out as a thoughtful ballad, it gathers force quite quickly: strings join in after first verse, and the song builds towards an anthemic chorus. "Rise up and see your liberty" asks Anne-Marie, and the song serves admirably as a rallying call for us all to take control of our lives and find something we can excel at that we truly enjoy. Personal fulfilment is the ideal, and something for us to strive towards.
After the passionate whirlwind of "Rise Up", the album takes a breather with "Cloud" - a track no less intense in its own way, but worlds apart in feel. The song pictures a cloud as protection from a hostile or difficult world. Consisting of sparse piano, topped off with an almost whispered largely spoken-word vocal, the song is a blissful oasis before the album's final moments. "Suspended in a cloud, happy and peaceful, nothing can touch me now".
Then finally, there is "Gasp". Opening with an a cappella layered vocal (which may be familiar to some listeners as it was the foundation of the intro tape used by Panic Room at their gigs at the tail end of 2012), the track is built around a rhythmic piano part that feels slightly reminiscent of Massive Attack's "Teardrop", a comparison strengthened by the introduction of a programmed percussion loop that drives the track along. Underpinned by the vocal loop and slowly swelling strings, and with a bass line like a heartbeat, the song builds steadily towards a crescendo. The key change into the chorus is magical. The song talks of the magic of someone who can make you struggle to sum up what they mean to you, and the song itself has that kind of effect on the listener, serving up one surprise after another that the listener is almost afraid to take a breath in case they miss something - I was unaware I was holding my breath during my first listen until I was forced to take a gasp of my own at the end of the song. As an album closer it delivers, and there's a strong urge when the CD ends to just press play "one more time". In fact, I think that's exactly what I'm going to do right now...
Comparisons are difficult. Luna Rossa are, as previously mentioned, more than Panic Room unplugged. There's certainly much here that Panic Room fans will love, and that goes for the writing as much as the actual performances - but there's a different feel, a different atmosphere that pervades this record. The closest Panic Room comparison is almost certainly "Skin", since a lot of "Sleeping Pills and Lullabies" shares the generally more introspective feel of that album. But, like all great duo albums, Luna Rossa's debut is a true hybrid of the best aspects of the writing of two musicians: there's as much here that harks back to Anne-Marie's solo work as it does Panic Room, and there's a great deal here that further demonstrates just how crucial Jonathan's keys and songwriting is to the sound and identity of Panic Room, the 'mothership'. The overall feel is slightly disconcerting: familiar, yet at the same time fresh; surprising, and also reassuring. Beyond Panic Room and Anne-Marie and Jonathan's other musical adventures, comparisons are equally deceptively simple and potentially misleading. A touch of Kate Bush - a comparison Anne-Marie's vocal work and lyrical stylings seem destined to inspire; maybe some Bjork, with some Massive Attack... but nothing so obvious that it feels borrowed or directly inspired by anything else.
At the end of the day, "Sleeping Pills and Lullabies" doesn't sound like anything so much as itself, occupying a place outside of genre. This is not rock; this is not prog; this is not pop, or folk... it is all of these things, often at the same time. It's the sound of two musicians throwing aside expectations and finding the space to create whatever feels right, taking their music to places they didn't realise existed. Richly emotive, confessional, funny, touching, sad, beautiful, introspective, dark and joyfully optimistic, "Sleeping Pills and Lullabies" is a triumph.
Let's hope there's more where this came from.
For those familiar with Panic Room, one of the more familiar-sounding tracks is the opener, "The Dark Room". Opening with an eerie intro played on wine glasses, Jonathan's rolling piano gradually develops momentum as Anne-Marie sings a touching story about the titular dark room: a place where photographs are developed. The lyric touches on the idea of photographs as a means of preserving memories and emotions "in amber", capturing forever moments that are significant in our lives, and gives us some potent examples, stories-within-a-story, such as a young girl, an ambitious young man, and a couple whose relationship has fractured, all of whom are captured by the camera at crossroads in their lives. The track slowly dials up its momentum, featuring a chunky bass line, autoharp, gentle percussion and ultimately some restrained dobro.
The second track, "Heart On My Sleeve" opens with percussion akin to a heartbeat, yielding up a yearning piano-led ballad, featuring some especially effective and plaintive strings. The song concerns the value of being honest and truthful, and not pretending to be something other than what you are - being true to yourself. "I'm not like other girls", sings Anne-Marie, before going on to tell the listener that whilst honesty is not always valued, surely it is better than pretence, and of being frustrated by others who adopt masks to avoid facing up to themselves or opening up to others. "There is no time to build walls, now is our time to stand tall, and face them all". In many ways, this could be Anne-Marie's most confessional lyric to date, and her truly wonderful and clearly heartfelt vocal performance is a triumph.
Time for a change of mood now, and "Mad ABout You" doesn't disappoint in that regard: its jazzy, latin flavour delights with lush acoustic guitar, brushed percussion, and thick, resonant bass. Less personal and more playful than the previous tracks, it tells of the hazards of personal magnetism and obsession, experienced from both sides of the gender divide. After the emotive, introspective feel of the opening two tracks, this bright and breezy number is a reminder to the listener to expect the unexpected.
With cover versions ten a penny these days, it takes something really special for a cover to stand out from the crowd: something especially difficult to accomplish if your choice of song has already been tackled by luminaries like Peter Gabriel. Consequently, it's to Jonathan & Anne-Marie's credit that Luna Rossa's take on the Magnetic Fields' "The Book Of Love" is such a triumph. The song has a simple message - love is complicated unless you find the right person (perhaps it is no accident that it is placed after "Mad About You" in the running order!) - and that is reflected in its unfussy arrangement, which is for the most part a duet between voice and piano, with a simple but hugely effective harp line used to underpin the bridges between chorus and verse. The song is notable for two things: a delightfully wry reading by Anne-Marie of the simultaneously comic and affectionate lyrics and the fact that it features vocals from Jonathan – an expected but effective device.
"Scream At The Sky" harks back to Anne-Marie's much-loved solo acoustic performances, and whilst Jonathan's playful piano remains her chief foil, Anne-Marie's characteristic style of guitar playing underpins the track in a way existing fans of her solo performances will find delightfully familiar. The song concerns the tough side of relationships, where one person can't function effectively without the other person. "Do you want to do something stupid? Something to make us feel alive?" asks Anne-Marie, reminding us that often it is the little things that make all the difference.
It may seem almost a shame that a record that features work from an award-winning vocalist of Anne-Marie's calibre features an instrumental track, but that's exactly what "Leaving For The Last Time" is. Late night, minimal piano picks out a reflective, nostalgic melody, to develop into a beautiful duet with Anne-Marie's flute playing - a real treat for fans who may feel that it's a pity we haven't heard more of that facet of her music with Panic Room. The general feel is perhaps a little akin to Kate Bush's instrumental work - in fact it occurred to me that the track feels almost like a companion piece to Bush's "One Last Look Around The House Before We Go", something which the sympathetic title only strengthens.
Possibly the highlight of the album, the infectious "Fight Or Flight" is an instantly addictive delight. Percussion and steadily building piano give way to a great song with a hugely catchy chorus, with programmed drums and swelling strings adding urgency. The song concerns the feeling of being swept up in something and allowing instinct to override your brain, for better or for worse - "I don't know what I'm running from / I don't know where I'm bound" sings Anne-Marie, but the song feels buoyed up with a sweet surrender to where life is taking the protagonist that it's impossible not to feel that Luna Rossa revel in the idea of throwing their compass overboard and surrendering to the tides. An unalloyed joy.
"La Clef" provides another surprise - Anne-Marie singing in French! A gently lilting song, with gentle piano and strings, "La Clef" almost serves as a reassuring lullaby between two more striking and rhythmic tracks.
Another track that harks back to Anne-Marie's solo acoustic performances is "Rise Up". Primarily consisting of strong, strummed acoustic guitar and a vocal performance that can only be described as dynamite, this is possibly the song most like what people have experienced of Anne-Marie's previous work. Although the track starts out as a thoughtful ballad, it gathers force quite quickly: strings join in after first verse, and the song builds towards an anthemic chorus. "Rise up and see your liberty" asks Anne-Marie, and the song serves admirably as a rallying call for us all to take control of our lives and find something we can excel at that we truly enjoy. Personal fulfilment is the ideal, and something for us to strive towards.
After the passionate whirlwind of "Rise Up", the album takes a breather with "Cloud" - a track no less intense in its own way, but worlds apart in feel. The song pictures a cloud as protection from a hostile or difficult world. Consisting of sparse piano, topped off with an almost whispered largely spoken-word vocal, the song is a blissful oasis before the album's final moments. "Suspended in a cloud, happy and peaceful, nothing can touch me now".
Then finally, there is "Gasp". Opening with an a cappella layered vocal (which may be familiar to some listeners as it was the foundation of the intro tape used by Panic Room at their gigs at the tail end of 2012), the track is built around a rhythmic piano part that feels slightly reminiscent of Massive Attack's "Teardrop", a comparison strengthened by the introduction of a programmed percussion loop that drives the track along. Underpinned by the vocal loop and slowly swelling strings, and with a bass line like a heartbeat, the song builds steadily towards a crescendo. The key change into the chorus is magical. The song talks of the magic of someone who can make you struggle to sum up what they mean to you, and the song itself has that kind of effect on the listener, serving up one surprise after another that the listener is almost afraid to take a breath in case they miss something - I was unaware I was holding my breath during my first listen until I was forced to take a gasp of my own at the end of the song. As an album closer it delivers, and there's a strong urge when the CD ends to just press play "one more time". In fact, I think that's exactly what I'm going to do right now...
Comparisons are difficult. Luna Rossa are, as previously mentioned, more than Panic Room unplugged. There's certainly much here that Panic Room fans will love, and that goes for the writing as much as the actual performances - but there's a different feel, a different atmosphere that pervades this record. The closest Panic Room comparison is almost certainly "Skin", since a lot of "Sleeping Pills and Lullabies" shares the generally more introspective feel of that album. But, like all great duo albums, Luna Rossa's debut is a true hybrid of the best aspects of the writing of two musicians: there's as much here that harks back to Anne-Marie's solo work as it does Panic Room, and there's a great deal here that further demonstrates just how crucial Jonathan's keys and songwriting is to the sound and identity of Panic Room, the 'mothership'. The overall feel is slightly disconcerting: familiar, yet at the same time fresh; surprising, and also reassuring. Beyond Panic Room and Anne-Marie and Jonathan's other musical adventures, comparisons are equally deceptively simple and potentially misleading. A touch of Kate Bush - a comparison Anne-Marie's vocal work and lyrical stylings seem destined to inspire; maybe some Bjork, with some Massive Attack... but nothing so obvious that it feels borrowed or directly inspired by anything else.
At the end of the day, "Sleeping Pills and Lullabies" doesn't sound like anything so much as itself, occupying a place outside of genre. This is not rock; this is not prog; this is not pop, or folk... it is all of these things, often at the same time. It's the sound of two musicians throwing aside expectations and finding the space to create whatever feels right, taking their music to places they didn't realise existed. Richly emotive, confessional, funny, touching, sad, beautiful, introspective, dark and joyfully optimistic, "Sleeping Pills and Lullabies" is a triumph.
Let's hope there's more where this came from.
