The Big Moon - Walking Like We Do
We all know, or at least have been told continuously, that genres are becoming a thing of the past.
Having easy access to an incomprehensible amount of music has swept the boundaries and stigmas away. Yet one classification defies the passing of time and technology: pop.
But what is ‘pop’? As a genre in and of itself it means to add a synth sheen, or expanded production, or the heinous crime of being catchy. That’s nonsense of course, in its purest sense it’s popular and therefore more encompassing.
The Big Moon, like Girl Ray before them, have been accused of ‘going pop.’ Their Mercury nominated debut, 2017’s Love In The 4th Dimension, was raucous indie fun, deceptively heavy and one for the indie purists. With a few more years’ experience (and therefore cynicism) under their belts, the four-piece have delivered the first big hitter of this new decade and have quite rightly developed their sound.
It’s true to say the guitars have been rolled back, but this new lightness of touch should not be mistaken for an abandonment of principles, more a willingness to enhance the sound. Introducing synth pads and layered harmonies is not always a red flag.
Opener ‘It’s Easy Then’ is a slow start with dislocated and distant backing vocals breathing life into an initially maudlin song. It’s lightly atmospheric but the foreboding drums are a signpost that everything is not quite what it seems. First single ‘Your Light’ is more (obviously) more accessible, layered and driving Killers-esque FM rock with that bassline that you always hear on this type of song. Juliette Jackson’s defiantly matter of fact English vocals are incongruous against the song and shouldn’t work but do.
Essentially the band have given themselves more room to breathe with instrumentation and arrangements. The chipper, bouncing ‘Take A Piece’ is held together by jaunty piano while the rickety ‘Don’t Think’ brings to mind the hooks of Franz Ferdinand. ‘A Hundred Ways To Die’, meanwhile, is almost music hall in its chirpiness. Arctic Monkeys’ AM is the key touchstone here, in particular ‘Why’, which evokes the swollen hip hop beats of that album, and ‘Barcelona’ which is all sauntering swirling bass. Elsewhere, the stomping ‘Holy Roller’ features the reassuring sounds of a winding guitar outro. The Big Moon have tweaked the winning formula rather than usurped it.
The lead single aside, it’s a slow-paced album which is a side-effect of the style they are taking. There isn’t much to set the pulse racing and the mid-paced songs do blend into one by the time the album reaches its conclusion. But the old-fashioned, simplistic yet satisfying melody of ‘Waves’ makes up for that, while Dog Eat Dog’s subject matter (social inequality and the tragedy of Grenfell Tower) warrants the heavenly voices and eerie keyboard.
Lyrically, Jackson isn’t afraid to confront the world we live in (‘maybe it’s an end cos this don’t feel like a start, but every generation probably thought they were the last’) but she doesn’t condemn and instead encourages empathy.
Rest assured, The Big Moon haven’t ‘gone pop’ in its harshest terms. They’ve simply broadened their palette by growing and, if there’s any justice, stand well placed to reap the rewards.