In my Albums of the year post at the tail end of 2009, I mentioned that there were a bunch of records by bands I loved that I hadn’t got round to listening to yet. This week, I finally got round to listening to The Twilight Sad’s second album, “Forget The Night Ahead”. Long-term readers may recall me getting earache following their tinnitus-inducing show at the ICA. Quite frankly, it was worth it.
The funny thing about hearing tracks like “Doonstairs” (ok, “Reflection Of The Television”) on record is how well I remember them. Sure, they are cleaned up of much of the huge wall of noise that is a Twilight Sad live show, but they lose little of their power in their transition to a bunch of bits. “I Became A Prostitute” is absolutely cracking and has been on near-constant rotation on my poor iPhone; there’s something of the grim, cold rainy day in their music which perfectly reflects the current weather round here. The album as a whole seems a bit more sludgy than their debut, a bit more oppressive, but dammit, fine music is fine music.
But they are miserable blighters, aren’t they?