Wild Nothing sprang to life in the college-town of Blacksburg, VA, which was fitting since their music often connects like prime DJ fodder for a late-evening slot on a mid-‘80s student-run radio station, a left side of the dial enterprise with wattage so low its currents started crackling before a listener even made it to the other side of the city limits. In those days import bins were chocked full of both indie pop titles and the more traditional new wave-descended product via the Some Bizarre, 4AD, and Factory labels. Wild Nothing’s sophomore full-length Nocturne references this unabashedly Brit blend and with largely satisfying results.
Placing a cover of Kate Bush’s “Cloudbusting” on the a-side of your second single might at first seem like a somewhat unusual and equally audacious move. And it was certainly an attention grabber for Jack Tatum’s Wild Nothing, as Ms. Bush’s smartly conceived and brilliantly executed music isn’t the sort of thing a person should just blithely play around with. Furthermore, “Cloudbusting” was from 1985’s Hounds of Love, Bush’s most successful and most beloved album; it’s a stone classic in many listener’s ears, this writer included, and a disc that I’ve witnessed numerous people enshrine as total Desert Island stuff.
But instead of screwing around with a very good thing or shamelessly stumping for face time in an overcrowded contempo field, Wild Nothing’s Kate cover accomplished a far more admirable goal, calmly establishing that Tatum’s project, which commenced circa 2009, was a notch far above any run of the mill ‘80’s retro foolishness. If his debut seven inch “Summer Holiday” made clear that it was coming from a distinctly jangly fount of indie pop, then “Cloudbusting” elaborated that Tatum was far from content to just restate the enduringly appealing angles of the style.
And his version ultimately proved far more than just a mere replication of the fine qualities of Bush’s original anyway, a task that would’ve proved quite difficult even if he had desired the route of direct imitation (you know, the sincerest form of flattery). But far more importantly he also had no desire to disrespect the essence of “Cloudbusting.” What resulted was a beautiful study in difference, the bold ‘80s production values of the original’s crisp, intellectually inclined pop (and pop it was, it’s album knocking Madonna’s Like a Virgin from the #1 spot in the UK album chart) differing sharply from Wild Nothing’s scaled down dorm-room reevaluation.
It was a smashing success. And from there Wild Nothing released three more seven inch platters (one a split with label mates Beach Fossils), a fine long-playing debut Gemini and two EPs, the three-song “Evertide” and the six-song “Golden Haze.” Along the way the music fell comfortably into the indie pop stratosphere while continuing to push further than the norm, occasionally bringing to mind the poppier end of the late-‘80s Flying Nun spectrum, and also being unafraid of drawing influence from more contemporary sources like for just one instance The Shins.
With the new record Nocturne, Wild Nothing cast aside the appealing aura of the low-tech by stepping into a real studio and with immediately perceptible results. For example, previously Tatum employed programmed rhythms but frequently with the intention of sounding like a live drummer, the motive very likely to simply cut down on the sonic disparity between the recordings and the club set (though Wild Nothing has been faulted for being an underwhelming live act, an accusation of which I have no firsthand experience).
However this new LP’s larger budget allows for not just live drums but also a flesh and blood string section. Interestingly, the human-derived rhythms seem intended to often sound canned in nature. It’s emblematic of a far more polished and at times very professional effort, but for the most part that doesn’t hinder Nocturne’s success. Overall its growth spurt is a well considered one, to these ears only lessening somewhat as it shifts focus towards album’s end.
It opens quite well with “Shadows,” the tune’s breathy vocals and lush production interweaving with a rhythm that is instantly surprising in its sprightliness. Additionally, the song’s synth/keyboard coloration combines well with both solidly delivered acoustic strum (a sorta indie pop ace in the hole) and the aforementioned live strings that assert themselves near track’s end (and deftly understated strings at that, no mistaking them for a Mellotron here).
“Midnight Song” shifts gears somewhat, presenting an almost New Order-esque synthetic (or at least synthetic sounding) rhythmic stutter at its opening, though it does retain a dream-pop core for most of its duration. From there the title cut smacks of the more accessible end of the mid-‘80s Manchester scene (or at least what I recall those bands sounding like), and with the deliberate seasoning of C86 (at its most polished) thrown in. “Nocturne” also shows Tatum’s not a bit afraid of stretching out for a while or for that matter giving things a slow fade out; hell, the song almost makes it sound like he’s been signed to a contract by Sire Records.
Positioned at track four, “Through the Glass” is to this point the record’s most ambitious song, a fact that’s impressive considering the quality of what came before. And the tune’s acoustic guitar eschews the expected strumming, instead providing some lightly classical pluck, all of it segueing nicely into “Only Heather,” which rounds out side one with Nocturne’s most uptempo piece.
“Only Heather” is securely in the jangle pop tradition and is an undisguised love song to boot, along the way sonically shifting Wild Nothing’s most interesting contemporary similarity from The Shins to Scotland’s The Clientele, though Tatum is substantially more assertive rhythmically. Also, “Only Heather” almost feels like it could culminate with a guitar solo, a ripping one at that, but it doesn’t and the song’s all the better for it.
Side two opens with “This Chain Won’t Break,” and similarly to “Midnight Song” it begins with a few seconds of just a large danceable beat. But again remaining true to Wild Nothing’s indie pop backbone, the song also possesses some strong, somewhat implicitly funky bass playing, in fact very post-punk in how it doesn’t overstate the potential for ass-shaking; along the way the guitars drop out and the keys wash in, the tune displaying both impressive momentum and instrumental accenting/layering, shrewdly ending with the same solitary beat.
In a sense, “Disappear Always” is more of same, but it also holds some neatly knotty guitar playing, some of the toughest on the album to this point, though that shouldn’t insinuate that Nocturne ever leaves the realm of the well mannered and the Brit-inspired. As evidence the opening synth swell of “Paradise” is more tangibly geared toward ‘80’s radio pop than anything preceding it on the record while flaunting more of that post-punky bass funkiness for good measure; this is the first point on the album that feels like a deliberate attempt at throwback, and without the oddity of its midsection and some icy, mildly Barney Sumner-derived new wave vocalizing the song would register as a blatant crib of chart-savvy synth-pop.
In case you’re wondering, that’s not necessarily a bad thing, particularly because Tatum doesn’t really overindulge in this courting of the commercial, instead stacking it up in Nocturne’s second half. As such, “Counting Days” also feels like a successful radio single from the same era, though one that becomes less BPM-oriented as it progresses, instead shaping up like a livelier Cure from around ’85 or thereabouts.
And from there “The Blue Dress” blends the smoothly indie pop with some unfettered John Hughes soundtrack ambiance, though I can’t really recall any ‘80s tune this commercially minded and Anglo-centric possessing a bass line of such tough bottom end. That’s what’s called a pleasantly unexpected twist.
Closer “Rheya” also explores this indie pop/synth-pop blend, thusly solidifying that I prefer the first side of the record to the second. Nocturne’s entirety is an interesting display of complimentary contrasts though, all of it going down well, and it’s not like “Cloudbusting” didn’t tip off this development back in 2010. I won’t deny that more C86 and less Pretty in Pink would’ve have raised my overall score, but as it stands Wild Nothing’s second full length is really quite good. Thus far Jack Tatum’s got the songs down pat; here’s hoping he can keep them coming.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
B
