Here's part two of the first review of The End Of The Pier, by Everett True / Jerry Thackray at Collapse Board:
Song of the day – 473: The Distractions
In the months since I was sent an advance promo of End Of The Pier, it’s found its way onto my iTunes playlist several times – shy and unannounced like a former drunkard of a friend – and each time, I stop what I’m doing momentarily and listen, surprised, caught unawares again, wanting more, wistful, wishing that I could stop this relentless chase, this thrill of the new when no one nears me gives a fucking second glance at what I do. The music I make this days, when I make it, is clearly me: this hesitation, this clumsy renewal with the heart of pop music serves The Distractions well, very well.
This isn’t from the album. This is ‘Lost’ from the ‘Come Home’ EP, released in 2010.
I’m stumbling here. I know within my heart that I wouldn’t listen to this album more than once if I didn’t know The Distractions already but that’s not the point, is it? I do know The Distractions already and, because I do, their already poignant music is imbued with additional poignancy – because they too are reflecting and stumbling and hesitating and looking back on life that never, never turns out like you’d expect – and it’s stupid and false to pretend otherwise. I keep wanting to raise the water container to my lips, but it keeps remaining empty. The mirror confuses the fuck out of me too. This dead skin. All this useless dead skin. What’s that all about? Listen too closely and the magic begins to dissipate – how can it be otherwise when it’s an echo, a shimmering reflection? Move away for a few moments, though and the magic comes flooding back in. How can that be? What magic is this, as Professor Quirrell once yelped. Does it matter if it’s a reflection, an echo, when it affects me this deeply?
This isn’t from the album either. This is an old song, re-recorded in 1995, the first Distractions recordings in 15 years.
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