Gazpacho
Tick Tock

It was instant infatuation with this album. It glued me to the couch from the first to the last note, like few works have managed to do lately. And those few often got lost in the greed of my listening. Yet, the ingredients to discard it outright were all there. The name of the band, for example. Gazpacho. Not only a poor phonetic result, but also and above all the only negative memory from a recent trip. And let's face it, a Norwegian band choosing such a moniker is not normal. Not to mention the title of the work itself, “Tick Tock”, so banal it almost becomes annoying. I am still amazed at my perseverance. However, the reviews I had read or heard suggested that I resist these first signs of intolerance. Rightly so.  

“Tick Tock” is indeed an emotional journey, with highly cinematic hues, and it actually develops its concept by drawing inspiration from the book “Terre des hommes”. The memories of French aviator Antoine de Saint-Exupéry and his emergency landing in the Sahara take on a new form here. Images and sounds transport us into the vastness of the desert. That desert that seems always and only alike to itself, devoid of expectations. Where surfaces are lost and forms change slowly. So is the music, imbued with anesthetizing psychedelic moods, alternating visceral melodic mixes with soothing instrumental calms. An underlying melancholy that gets under your skin and accompanies this desperate march, between sand lashed by the wind and our dreams fading away. From the atypical and electric opener “Desert Flight” to the melancholic pop of the closing “Winter is Never”, the group showcases its enviable compositional flair. A formula certainly not innovative, but undoubtedly personal, drawing from the neo-progressive of the beloved Marillion of the Hogarth era to take them into more experimental territories in the style of Porcupine Tree and the latest Anathema. Guitars often smooth and sinuous, yet they can ignite when needed or easily indulge in unexpected exotic touches. Everything revolves around the twilight landscapes painted by the keyboards, among ethereal synths, mellotron, and electronic samples, contrasted at times by piano or a heartbreaking violin. Sealing it all is the perfect voice of Jan-Henrik Ohme, comfortable in every area of the spectrum and endowed with an uncommon expressiveness. The ticking of the clock slowly fades, leaving us once again in solitude, at the mercy of our thoughts. It is increasingly difficult to be moved today, but thankfully art exists to protect us from the superficiality of modern life.

Gazpacho, despite their out-of-context name and this “Tick Tock” that perhaps more evokes the title of a children's nursery rhyme, instead write an important page in my personal musical growth. “If thirst is to burn me, let it already burn me”.