Slowdive
Just For A Day

THE REVIEW

"Feels like all the days are gone. Just catch the breeze.."

In the early nineties, in the land of Albion, "shoegaze" was the magic word that opened any damned door for the cunning scribes of music. It referred to those musicians literally bent over their instruments during the agonistic-executive trance of notes floating between feedback, psychedelia, and dream pop (which often happily and contentedly converged in a more or less distorted ambient). The infamous "shoegazers." "Shoegaze" was a curious neologism that helped Rob Fleming to shelf groups like Curve, Ride, Lush, and the ultra-sonic pioneers My Bloody Valentine of the ingenious Kevin Shields together. Enormous walls of guitar over melodic pop mantras, whoever wrote "..of Beach Boys on acid.." talking about Shields & co. was not wrong. I listened to "Loomer" and had an irresistible urge to pin my favorite Winnie The Pooh plush to the wall. Beautiful and instinctive, damn it. But there were others who further slowed down an original and edgy sound, creating real atmospheric oases of peace. Dreamy flights of bliss. An experience sometimes so intimately spiritual that it made a busload of pilgrims to San Giovanni Rotondo look like damn hedonists on a visit to the Luxor in Las Vegas (or to Graceland, take your pick). Slowdive was born in Reading in 1989, from the union of three young twenty-somethings: Neil Halstead and Rachel Goswell, guitars and vocals, and bassist Nick Chaplin, who would receive the input for the band's future name in his sleep. With guitarist Christian Savill and numerous changes on drums (Adrian Sell, Neil Carter, and finally Simon Scott), these young lads, truly talented, were ready to release numerous EPs that showcased an already fantastic talent. Alan McGee's cunning Creation label signed them.

"Watch the waves so far away. They're washing 'cross the paths that I have made. Leaving all my sins, I turn away..."

Throughout '91, "Morning Rise", with the memorable interweaving of its title track and "She Calls", and "Holding Our Breath" (which includes an early version of "Catch The Breeze" and "Albatross") served as a delicious appetizer for the wonders of the masterpiece "Just For A Day", which would be released in September (a biblical month, folks). Rarely does an album cover so exemplarily visualize its content: the stunning slow-motion image of the young woman, veined in an overflowing and unfocused red, is a powerful mental context to the forty-three minutes of "Just For A Day". A dreamlike and sensual dance. A journey into the memories of our heart, on ethereal and remote landscapes. It is memory, which we detest (and rummage through) because it loves to disguise itself as a grouchy ragpicker of used goods. That memory that lives again in the gloomy progressive of "Spanish Air", in the enchantment and catharsis of "Celia's Dream", in the divine and human ascension of "Catch The Breeze", in the cosmic melancholy of "Ballad Of Sister Sue". Rachel's hypnotic song is a candle in the darkness ("The Sadman", reminiscent of Robert Smith from "Disintegration"), among incredible guitars that sound like keyboards in the crescendo of "Waves", it's a faint light at the end of the emotional and abyssal whirl of "Primal". After the end credits, such a work could have lowered the curtain on Slowdive, by then History had chosen its side. Instead, they followed up with "Souvlaki" (1993), "Pygmalion" (1995), and Mojave 3. Nothing would ever match the precious beauty of "Just For A Day", which continues to captivate as much as the world seen through a child's eyes. A daydream. Only for a day, yet infinite. The shoegazers always looked down, immersed in the waves of a celestial noise. This is what the legend tells. But their music flew incredibly high, beyond the exosphere.

"..And when it all looks brighter, just turn around and smile.."