Let’s get this straight: you’re probably not going to be broadcasting The Island Come True out of your Aventador as you blaze down the Pacific Coast Highway with a carload of anorexic, Adderall-fueled celebutantes. And unless a clinically depressed barista wrestles control of the Sirius, these jams are destined for bedrooms and headphones.
This is the latest offering on the Melodic label from L. Pierre, real name Aidan Moffat, formerly of the Scottish band Arab Strap. Moffat released his first solo album in 2002 under the moniker Lucky Pierre (apparently slang for the person in the middle of a gay threesome), and shortened it to L. Pierre in 2005 upon the release of his second solo effort. Perhaps he had grown weary of “that kind” of attention.
The tracking on The Island Come True seems intensely considered. Ominous swells and somber symphonic passages alternate with more light-hearted and adventurous fare, creating an emotional rhythm and a structural balance that builds cohesion and aids sonic digestion. The entire album is peppered with subtle but impishly insistent vinyl pops and crackles. While this could, in certain contexts, come across as facile nostalgia, here it becomes part of the content. Vocals are infrequent, often operatic, and mostly without words. Repetition, both vocal and instrumental, is used effectively throughout. Brief and quirky sketches (“Drums”, “Dumbum”, and “Now Listen”) appear between exquisitely doleful dirges (“Harmonic Avenger”, “Sad Laugh”, and “The Grief That Does Not Speak”) and are a welcome contrast to their poignancy. One should be forewarned that most thirds in this joint are flat.
Synthesizer, keyboard, piano, and symphonic strings are all used heavily on these recordings. Accordion and timpani add additional tonal complexity. The reverb-drenched accordion on the track “Harmonic Avenger” sounds like it could be spilling out onto a darkened alley from a Weimar Republic-era cabaret. The Island Come True is solid and sincere. It seems to exist solely on its own terms, boldly and atavistically immune to the anxiety of influence.
-Sara Cavic
