Track of the Week: Mleko have nothing to apologise for on ‘Tom’s Tune’
We’re so exposed to social media today. The intricacies of our personality seem incessantly shared to a point where it feels like everyone knows us and that we must apologise for it. Worried we’ll slip into a cultural cliché or worse, “lose aura points”, the idea of opening ourselves up to the world has somehow become inherently cringy.
Sadly, it’s the sort of culture that’s forced Mleko to claim, “‘Tom’s Tune’ is our best shot at encapsulating the Mleko spectrum. We are sorry that it took seven minutes and some choral wailing to do that.”
In one of the better seven minutes I’ve enjoyed recently, I’ve finished the song with a catalogue of different questions, but the most immediate of all is, why do Mleko feel the need to apologise? Then came the curiosity of whether modernity beat the idea of sonic patience out of them? Then it was – When is the album coming out?
The last of which was purely driven by my appreciation for a song that makes the former two questions seem as ridiculous as they sound.
Seven minutes isn’t the drag Mleko might think it is when it sounds this good. Because the soundscapes are varied and considered, starting from the careful acoustic opening all the way to the choral arrangements, you’re kept on your toes throughout.
Now let’s get on to the supposed “wailing”, of which I can confirm, there is none. Throughout ‘Tom’s Tune’, harmonies bleed in and out, joining lead vocalist Ed Whirledge for verses and pre-chorus, before briefly leaving him to own the spotlight with vulnerability before returning again, for a liberated release. The point is, there’s no formulaic approach to how they are utilised; instead, they follow the necessary feeling of emotion to know when and where to uplift the melody and where to leave it.
Doing so is clever, given just how often the tectonic plates of this song shift. Mleko utilise every ounce of their seven-piece line-up, from the rolling rhythm section to the jazz-infused brass players who make the most frenetic parts of this song a whirlwind of ideas that keeps you utterly compelled.
Then there is the plunge into sonic darkness at the five-minute mark – which might just be where the band’s apology is rooted. It tails off into what could feel like another idea completely, raising questions amongst some as to whether or not it is necessary. But is Mleko’s job to just solely provide music that serves as sonic bliss, or genuinely engage with the world around them?
The reprise definitely suggests it’s the latter, and I would argue the song and band are better for it. They’ve created a musical world that is as light as it is dark, and feels like a perfect anthem for the messy times we are living in.
I can understand exactly why the band regard this as a song fully encapsulating the Mleko spectrum, but I just sincerely hope that on it, there remains some sounds that have been unexplored.
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