Da Googie and Cara Tivey – ‘The Golden Thread’ album review: harrowing, noisy, and glorious
THE SKINNY: It would be easy to refer to Deb Googe as just the bassist with shoegaze pioneers My Bloody Valentine, but that would be ignorant of the remarkable career that she’s had outside of her contributions to the Dublin group. Having worked with the likes of Thurston Moore, Brix Smith and Primal Scream over the course of her life, there are plenty of other reasons to hail her as a modern icon of British music.
Similarly, the list of credits that her new collaborator, Cara Tivey, can boast is also staggering. Her innovative ways have seen her work alongside the likes of Everything But The Girl, Billy Bragg and Au Pairs as a pianist and keyboardist. With the vast range of prior endeavours accomplished between them, you’d imagine that the first full-length effort between the duo, The Golden Thread, would be an enticing album full of bold experimentation and combining their strengths.
To simply call it just that is an understatement, as this debut offering from these two stalwarts throws up all kinds of curveballs that make it a splendid yet discomforting half-hour listen that encompasses many strands of their past work while inviting in new ideas. From intimidating drones to no-wave guitar shrieking and from blissful cosmic ambience to dissonant clashes of chords, there’s plenty on show that demonstrates that this is more than just a vanity project to keep two minds occupied.
What Googe and Tivey have conjured up is a harrowing descent into the harshest aspects of the world we live in—one that chews up society’s ills and regurgitates them with all of the ugliest parts on show. For an album made solely by two people in a home studio, the deft production that graces the album is stunning, if at times too overwhelming to stomach, and the range of repulsive sounds that the duo conjure up to symbolise the themes of the album is something that reveals itself on initial listens, only getting more misshapen with every revisit.
Revisits may well be scarce due to the monstrousness of the record, but it’s hard not to admit that this debut album from two individualistic minds is a triumph, no matter how unpleasant it may seem on the surface of things.
For fans of: Having the living daylights scared out of you and forcing yourself into solitary confinement afterwards.
A concluding comment from a ‘mentally stable individual’: “Sorry, I think I might need some time to recover from this one.”
The Golden Thread track by track:
Release Date: March 7th | Producer: Deb Googe & Cara Tivey | Label: Tiny Global Productions
‘Bad Habits’: Beginning with a synth rumble and an oscillating siren, we’re invited into the unsettling world that the album inhabits, and we’re then dealt an even more menacing bassline typical of Googe’s style. The track only gets more sinister and disorienting as it grows; a sign of promise for things to come. [4/5]
‘The Longest Walk’: Abrasive guitar scratches wail over the top of a delicate yet haunting piano line throughout this monster of an instrumental cut. You get the feeling that this album isn’t going to mess around when it comes to dishing out an overwhelming sense of fear and discomfort, and if you thought that MBV made things uneasy, then you’ve got a whole different thing coming. [4.5/5]
‘You Take It With You When You Go’: ‘The Longest Walk’ morphs seamlessly into the next offering, but the vocals attempt to provide a little more structure. At the same time, the evolving drones and piano are still doing their best to disconcert, and they continue to do a grand job of it. [4/5]
‘Rant’: A manic piano riff tumbles along beneath a myriad of percussive clattering as a lengthy guitar drone attempts to prevent the track from buckling under the weight of its own insanity. It doesn’t succeed, and the world seems to be edging ever closer to armageddon after this brief flutter of chaos. [4.5/5]
‘Dumb’: A waltzing guitar line lulls the listener into a false sense of security that this might be where normality starts to seep its way into the fabric of the album, but even as the record’s lead single, there are plenty of moments that feel equally surreal and confusing. Even at its most palatable, the album doesn’t want you thinking you’re being given a smooth experience. [4/5]
‘Mad Mike (Mark My Words)’: The synths are a lot spacier on this track, but the constantly thudding bass continues to instil a sense of terror. The vocal melody has the air of a folk lament, but the resulting track is more befitting of a funeral procession as the complete descent into madness continues. [4/5]
‘The Last Tear Falls’: After around a minute of the same discomfort we’ve been subjected to, some major chords emerge from the piano to suggest that the dust may finally be settling. And then, the haunting elements come back gradually. It’s not over just yet, but this one doesn’t feel like the same kind of onslaught. [3.5/5]
‘Secret Place’: Just as I expected the album to finish on the most harrowing offer, the final song is relatively mellow, if still rather maudlin. Some resonator guitars echo in the background underneath some mournful vocals and bassy reverberations, giving a slight Middle Eastern flavour to the track. It’s far from the sort of closer that one might have expected, given the sound of the rest of the album, but it still keeps up with the mysterious aura that is consistently dealt with throughout. [4/5]
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