When The Orielles released their fourth album in October 2022, I barely raised an eyebrow. The Halifax trio had failed to convince me in their previous efforts. Yes they were fun and experimental, but there was a sense of incompleteness, with uncompelling vocals and an inescapable immaturity in their works. Thankfully I decided to give Tableau a listen, for it has been the soundtrack to my studies ever since.
The album demonstrates the group’s ripening as they flirt around with 2000s indie rock, 80s infused cosmic dance pop, modern R&B, cinematic string arrangements, and post-Brexit post-punk. It is a hypnotic piece of musical experimentation in which their drastic shift in direction deserves more praise.
‘Chromo II’ invites listeners into this intergalactic realm, with throbbing shoegaze guitars accompanying restrained vocals from Esme Dee Hand-Halford. In prior albums Esme’s vocals have battled for the spotlight amongst the dance-pop and funk-rock in an incongruous fashion. But this time she is deliberately more subdued, knowing that The Orielles’ strengths lie with sonic expression rather than powerful vocals.
‘Airtight’ and ‘The Room’ display fast-paced, dance-pop sensibilities likened to Public Service Broadcasting. The drumming sequences in ‘Airtight’ are just as tight as the name implies, with an emerging piano teasing listeners. The latter continues in an equally impressive vein, beginning like a Disclosure number before 80s synths drag you into a pulsating spectacle. Meanwhile, ‘The Instrument’ combines a straining 2000s guitar riff with similarly breezy interstellar synths, further mesmerizing listeners.
Amidst the reverberating dance-pop moments, there are three epics of over seven minutes long.
The first and and the longest of them all ‘The Improvisation 001’ glides along with ambitions akin to Bjork in late 90s. ‘Beam/s’ features some wobbling, slow grunge in the first third, which is then followed by a build-up of garage rock guitars, and concluded with a stretch of haunting strings. Lasting all 8 minutes is a cathartic escapade. Finally, ‘Transmission’ bundles along like early Bloc Party’s slower tracks entangled with modern-day British post-punk that remains omnipresent in the current music landscape.
This is observed elsewhere as ‘Television’s’ initially intense strings digress into plodding postpunk, whilst ‘Honfleur Remembered’ tests out R&B beats and pianos comparable to Kid A.
‘Darkened Corners’ is the only song where Henry Carlyle Wade aids Esme as lead-singer, with the back and forth between the two over plonky Talking Heads inspired percussion and haunting strings culminating in one of the more memorable moments on this immersive record.
Ultimately, The Orielles have blossomed on this album. They have sacrificed intense lyrical themes for sonic experimentation, playing to their strengths with once unconvincing vocals now complementing the concoction of innovative, avant-garde sounds. Their debut’s 1980s-infused indie-pop and their follow ups’ indie-dance endeavour have been working towards this gratifying goal. To see where such artistry and ambition reach on their next album is an exciting premise, one we should all keep more of an eye on in the coming years.
Ben Cole
27/1/2023
