by James Fleming
The fight against ignorance is central to The Lonely Cry Of Space And Time. Combining the natural with the political, the scientific with the philosophical, and then soundtracking those themes with stirring, atmospheric electric guitar-strumming and haunting vocals is a deadly concoction.
Anna Coogan’s operatic Kate Bush-esque vocals spread the good word across The Lonely Cry Of Space And Time. A voice of reason in an era that conclusively proves that common sense is neither, Coogan’s words are a subversive and eloquent “fuck y’all.”
Underneath its sweet tones and stunning musicianship is a deep dissatisfaction with the status quo of today. The status quo appearing to be ignorance.
Both musical and cultural; here is a classically-trained opera singer armed to the teeth with an electric guitar, a record’s worth of great songs and sharp lyrical insight into the 21st century. If the top 40 sounded like this, we wouldn’t have Supreme Overlord Donald to worry about.
Even on the instrumental track, Last Exit, Coogan’s exquisite guitar playing conveys deep emotion, unnamed yet universal. And in a numbing world of reality TV and desensitising, ultra-violent 24 hour news broadcasts, as simple an act as feeling can be viewed as a potent and vital act of revolution.
The Lonely Cry Of Space And Time’s songs would make the coldest person weep for joy, such is the level of emotional expression barely contained in its 11 tracks. From the ode to Plath (Sylvia) to the soaring opera-rock of Wedding Vow, Coogan threatens emotional overload on a stifled world.
In its own way, The Lonely Cry Of Space And Time is as much of a revelation to us in the 2010s as Nevermind The Bollocks was in the ‘70s. Not as extreme maybe, but equally as vital.
Coogan has crafted a record of incredible individuality and spirit, in a society bent and intent on crushing those very characteristics from us. That’s why they send us to school…
Let records like this be our education. A hard-earned lesson that all is not as it seems and nor should it be. Creativity has long been a voice for dissatisfaction, let music carry the message of change again.
It’s interesting times we live in. There’s no artist(s) on the airwaves howling our discontent. But there’s many an artist not on the airwaves doing it. One is reminded of the rock underground of the ‘80s…
And what followed that? 1991 and the year punk broke that’s what. Where, for a fleeting moment, we caught a glimpse at enlightenment. Well, nothing’s broke yet. But we live in hope.