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Rating:
I am a fanatic of everything that "sounds" like the eighties, especially if it leans towards those musical expressions known as new wave and post-punk. I've managed to appreciate strongly "pop-oriented" groups like the Smiths and The Sound (for The Sound, the pop turn concerned their later works). I've even managed to appreciate the Cure! Not only the Cure of the first four immense albums but also the ones from the sugary "Disintegration". However, I've always had some issues with This Mortal Coil.
They are good, they used to be often mentioned, they showed a certain originality but, overall, their albums don't convince me!
But who are This Mortal Coil? First of all, it's worth clarifying that we are not talking about a proper band, but rather a supergroup composed of artists from the 4AD label stable. A supergroup born and bred under the supervision of the label's all-rounder and president, Ivo Watts-Russell.
The project involved members of Cocteau Twins, Dead Can Dance, and Colourbox. However, the high peaks reached by these groups are very far, and fortunately, from the mediocrity that characterizes this "Filigree & Shadow".
First downside of the album: the record is composed largely of covers of Van Morrison, Tim Buckley, and Talking Heads. The covers differ from the originals, as they should, but they have a somewhat too naive "gothic" flavor.
Second downside: the original tracks on this album are few and, sad but true, they are vaguely ambient sound interludes. These are not monstrosities, let's be clear, but they come across as mundane background music. Not dark and unsettling ambient, therefore... but of the tranquil ambient for yuppies, yuppies eager to spend some quiet moments with their lady.
Third downside: overall, this "Filigree & Shadow" appears fragmented, inconsistent, and without a well-defined and decipherable form.
Someone told me, not without reason, that This Mortal Coil were quickly forgotten. Very true. But it is also true that records like this, unfortunately, do not leave a mark!
Bittersweet, autumnal, faint, and melancholic music. Music that might surprise more than one person but, alas, does not withstand the test of time.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
02 The Jeweller (03:15)
The jeweler has a shop
On the corner of the boulevard
In the night, in small spectacles
He polishes old coins
He uses spit and cloth and ashes
He makes them shine with ashes
He knows the use of ashes
He worships God with ashes.
The coins are often very old
By the time they reach the jeweler
With his hands and ashes
He will try the best he can
He knows that he can only shine them
Can not repair the scratches
He knows that even new coins have scars
So he just smiles.
He knows the use of ashes
Dum da de da da dey dey
He worships God with ashes
Dum da de da de de da de dey dey.
In the darkness of the night
Both his hands will blister badly
They will often open painfully
And the blood flows from his hands
He works to take from black coin faces
Thumbprints from so many ages
He wishes he could cure the scars
When he forgets he sometimes cries.
He knows the use of ashes
Dum da de da da dey dey
He worships God with ashes
Dum da de da de de da de dey dey.
He knows (he knows the use of ashes)
He knows
He knows (he worships God with ashes)
He knows
He knows (he knows the use of ashes)
He knows (Dum da de dad a dey dey)
He knows (he worships God with ashes)
He knows (Dum da de dad a dey dey)
He (he knows the use of ashes)
He
(He worships God with ashes)
11 Morning Glory (02:56)
I lit my purest candle close to my
Window, hoping it would catch the eye
Of any vagabond who passed it by
And I waited in my fleeting house
Before he came I felt him drawing near
As he neared I felt the ancient fear
That he had come to wound my door and jeer
And I waited in my fleeting house
"Tell me stories," I called to the Hobo;
"Stories of cold," I smiled at the Hobo;
"Stories of old," I knelt to the Hobo;
And he stood before my fleeting house
"No," said the Hobo, "No more tales of time;
Don't ask me now to wash away the grime;
I can't come in 'cause it's too high a climb,"
And he walked away from my fleeting house#
"Then you be damned!" I screamed to the Hobo;
"Leave me alone," I wept to the Hobo;
"Turn into stone," I knelt to the Hobo;
And he walked away from my fleeting house
16 Firebrothers (03:54)
In the valley where the moon and lovers play.
Lived two children who were born on Saturday.
One was dark one was fair.
Fathered by the dog, mothered by the pig.
Stranger children you have never seen.
Brothers of the forest and the sea.
One was land one was air.
And they kept the fires burning.
In a golden vessel and silver vase
Kept them burning in a strange enchanted place.
Kept them burning to the sky.
For they knew someday the sun will die.
23 Drugs (03:08)
And all I see is little dots,
Some are smeared and some are spots.
Feels like a murder but that's alright.
Somebody said "There's too much light."
Pull down the shades and it's alright.
It'll be over in a minute or two.
I'm charged up.
Don't put me down.
Don't feel like talking.
Don't mess around.
I feel mean.
I feel O.K.
I'm charged up! Electricity.
The boys are making a big mess.
Those messed up girls all start to laugh.
I don't know what they're talking about.
The boys are worried.
The girls are shocked.
They pick the sound and let it drop.
Nobody know what they're talking about.
I'm charged up with microwaves.
I don't tell the truth,
I don't tell lies.
I'm broken up ???,
I'm charged up
It's pretty intense,
I'm charged up,
Don't put me down,
Don't feel like talking,
Don't mess around,
I feel mean and I feel O.K.
I'm charged up! Electricity.
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