Tunng
Mother's Daughter And Other Songs

THE REVIEW

Flashback. Year 2004.
In that strange underworld of shadows and dew answering to the British land, "Mother’s Daughter And Other Songs" was released. No front pages, no word of mouth, except for some sporadic and timid reviews in a few underground magazines.
All of this, considering the ruthless readiness of the English media, already hints at a small case. A strange case? Strange, yes, but not so unusual, after all. Perhaps it is necessary to acknowledge that, once the said CD is inserted into our player, a feeling more agile than any fashion gently runs down our spine. And that atypical impulse called enchantment returns. It begins with a soft female warble that introduces a guitar arpeggio and a flexible percussion beat setting the rhythm. A little less than two minutes as a preface.
Then, out of nowhere, emerges a vocal melody. It's a moment that suggests something to you, but you don't know what. A handful of seconds pass, and then you leap from your chair. You start hopping around your room like a madman, chuckling under your breath and shouting not too loudly, so as not to be heard: "Beeeeta Band!!!" Yes, because these Tunng, especially on first listens, remind you a lot of them. In the vocal solutions primarily, but also in those ingenious combinations between analog and digital. They remind you of them quite a bit if you think of the times when the Scottish group, recently retired from the scene, delighted in connecting clear folk solutions to light and captivating electronic pulses.
Only, where in Beta Band the rhythmic touch was mainly of apparent hip-hop derivation, here we are instead faced with glitch cadences, marking a more recent and evolved electronic scene. The compositions have a generally slow and dreamy pace, acoustic guitars always prominently featured, the voices almost whispered and hypnotic, chasing one another without ever boring, and occasionally, here and there, soft trails of strings framing the whole. Added to this is an excellent production, organized and bright, and great arrangements that avoid the boredom effect thanks to an ever-present balance and the near-total absence of verbosity.
It starts with the opener "Mother’s Daughter," hypnosis under a folk effect, then crosses acoustic-digital paths, close to the best Mùm in "Out Of The Window With The Window," until reaching that magnificent gem called "Tale From Black" where we have the luxury of reuniting Grateful Dead, Dentel, Beta Band, Arab Strap, and Donovan all at once. Chapeau!
“Kinky Vans” and the splendid “Fairy Doreen” only reaffirm what has already been said. And that is, we are faced with an album of quite singular beauty and accuracy, especially for a debut.

In short, a waking dream. Just under forty minutes. Yes and no, the time I had to wait this morning, just after the first light, to realize it was going to be a beautiful sunny day.