Leyland Kirby - Eager To Tear Apart The Stars

Having enjoyed the amazing 'Sadly The Future Is No Longer What It Was' trilogy a great deal, plus loving the first two 'Intrigue & Stuff' records, it's not difficult to begin to question whether Mister Kirby has set the bar too high. The trilogy was a difficult set to follow, especially with all of the universal critical acclaim but he's managed to do so in my opinion. Being fortunate enough to acquire the audio before the vinyl has landed, I've played this quite a bit and it's constantly hitting the spot. As prolific as he is as an artist, Kirby doesn't exactly churn them out relentlessly. But the thing is, as far as I'm concerned, that he's constantly been raising the bar over the past few years in particular. A steady shift onwards and upwards, indeed into the stars. Now, followers of Leyland's recent activity know full well he's not bludgeoning Gary Glitter tracks to death these days but what strikes me in particular with this record is just how fucking skilled a composer he is. I mean honestly there are moments of absolute breathtaking beauty to be heard on this record. Opener 'The Arrows Of Time' has some gorgeous escalating synths which sparkle and shimmer above a doomy piano conveying a sort of duel between happiness and sorrow. It sets the tone brilliantly for what follows. 'This Is The Story Of Paradise Lost' has a more optimistic vibe coming from the keys all wrapped up in lovely clouds of fuzzy static. It's not difficult to close your eyes and imagine it scoring a Lynch movie. 'To Reject The World' stands at just one minute and a half in its duration, but every second counts. It's a very haunting piece which will strike a note with anyone that has ever wanted to sit in the corner and make the world just go away. 'No Longer Distance Than Death' is a very emotional, but totally pleasurable listening experience with the dramatic strings and heavenly angelic choral vocal sounds. I'm pretty sure this one will induce tears from a number of listeners as it's extremely soul wrenching to say the least. 'They Are All Dead There Are No Skip At All' got me into a zone a few days ago, as it has now. One of those where you close everything out, ignore the construction of the track completely and just fly away to that other place. It's in some ways a similar journey that Coil's grand finale 'The Ape Of Naples' took me on. All of a sudden the track ends and there is brief silence and then you eventually come round going "Oh shit, right, I'm in my living room and I was playing a record". There are lots of gorgeous twinkling spooked music box sounds with very sparse and delicate percussion along with some lovely string work. This has the power to unlock some long buried childhood memories in a similar mode to The Caretaker material. Finally closer 'My Dream Contained A Star' is a total melter from beginning to end. This one is easily up there with the likes of Harold Budd and company, with some truly remarkable saddened keys really hitting the spot. They hit you and just make your arms want to reach out and give the man a big hug. From what I know, I think James is well known for being a happy go lucky sort of chap that likes to party. But what is clear about the album is that when the curtains are closed, there lies a more solitary figure that expresses his hopes and dreams extremely articulately via his machines. Love, loss, heartache - these tracks are a window into his soul. Kick back, dim the lights during these changing seasons and pour a glass of your finest and immerse yourself into his world for this is simply a brilliant record. Complete with Ivan Seal's unique artwork adorning the sleeve - this comes with my highest recommendation.