This is the second time that I’ve “actively” listened to this album and, sure enough, I’m beginning to make more sense of it. Next time, I’ll try to keep my smartphone at hand to jot down sudden insights so I don’t have to amass them all in my fallible head before hurrying to pour them all out on paper (well, digital paper). Just like the first time, I had difficulty focussing straightaway, what with the volume adjustments and all, and as a result didn’t appreciate the first track as much as I could have. However, I did at times focus on the overall texture of the track and the interplay of the different timbres, and at other times on the details, and this was effective in pulling myself out of a state of leisurely, “passive” listening. Yet, I still feel like I’m missing some appreciation strategies that would keep me busier and more engaged. On a related note, my mind once again drifted away at the same moment as last time, in a passage which, perhaps more ingeniously than ingenuously, lends itself to daydreaming. The return to (the album’s) reality, a turning point in the track, is all the more sensational for that.

This composition gives a glimpse at superior, more avant-gardiste forms of expression in music, letting the listener truly experience, with his own body, the narrative offered to him (in this case, a sudden wake-up after a period of torpor). You will probably know which track I’m talking about when you listen to it (read: I’m currently too lazy to determine which one it was).

Tomorrow’s World is still as hugely fascinating as it was two days ago. The palette that the two painters, life-givers, world-creators compose from is wide and eclectic, bringing new elements to the table every few songs. Of course, motives come back again and again, such as Lou Hayter’s ubiquitous and mesmerizing voice, or Dunckel’s piano that pops up just as often, as if a hint at a steadiness, that of the relationship portrayed in the album, or its narrative — an anchor amidst the transience and speed of the outside world. The emphasis is placed strongly on the relationship between the two characters, at once representatives of the human race and lab rats for a case study on the human condition. Indeed, the album, however intimate it might at times feel, seems to hint at somewhat philosophical, bigger-picture observations, as shown by the resigned and detached conclusion “Life On Earth”, an ultimate zooming-out after a turbulent zooming into the brain and its inner workings. In the final song “Inside”, the attention is shifted onto the accent and tone of the woman’s voice, a new perspective that almost tempts us to listen to the whole album again with our focus on her voice, its authenticity — or maybe its superficiality and deceitfulness. As the words “I love you on the inside” ring out, the strings turn more disquieting, and the usually comforting harp tries but does little to counterbalance them. We lose track of time, of the beat, in a deadly spiral of sorts, a degradation, a disintegration, disintegration of the memory, disintegration of the man’s life; every imperfection in the woman’s voice is brought to light, one at a time, and soon the words turn into a curious laugh of sorts, taunting even. In retrospect, I’m a bit surprised that the band didn’t swap the order of the last two songs. This being said, the musicality and more metaphorical tone of the last song are probably the reason why, and the decision to end the album on a markedly dark note is undoubtedly deliberate. In the album, Lou’s voice is highlighted, together with all that it harbours, for instance in songs such as “You Taste Sweeter” where the intake of breath feels very revealing and intimate, making the song itself taste sweeter, as it were. As she utters these words, the looped percussion sound starts smearing and tasting sweeter as well, mimicking the sound of her breath. In the same track, she also sings “hold me close”, with the echoes of “close” paradoxically getting farther and farther away from us. At the end, she leaves us hanging by omitting the word “close” while the drums play a suspenseful pattern over and over.

Tomorrow’s World is truly an exceptional album.

I had watched the video clips for two of their songs but now I feel like, for all the insight they might provide on the songs considered individually, they don’t really make sense in the context of the album. For example, the fan-made music video for “Think Of Me” insists on the “remembrance” aspect of the song, while I see it more as a cinematographic switching back-and-forth between two lovers far apart but thinking about each other at the same time. (I’m going to write a whole article on that song (update: here goes) so I’ll leave it at that.) Of course, I’m certain about the use the music videos if you cannot get your head around certain songs, but for my part I’ll try to keep them at bay for the moment, instead of having to deal with two conflicting interpretations.

I highly encourage you give the entire album an attentive listen. It really is a rewarding experience, and very inspiring for any music endeavour you might have, as a receiver or as a giver.

If you want to read what I thought of this album two days ago, click here — and if you feel like reading a personal track-by-track commentary of the album, head over here! I also wrote an article on the track “Think Of Me”.