Tess Parks - And Those Who Were Seen Dancing
The album closes with a piano and the sound of rain in 'Saint Michael'. Retrospective and atmospheric rather than apostolic in its tone,
This is London-based artist Tess Parks' first solo release since 2013's 'Blood Hot'. Now signed to Fuzz Club Records, the songs for 'And Those Who Were Seen Dancing' were all written between 2019 and 2021, a period fraught with creeping disallusionment for many of us, Parks included.
The result is a work of fractured parts, a collection that occasionally struggles to find cohesive creative form. And yet, as each song jostles for your attention, the album cleverly stitches itself together, creating a patchwork of persuasion and promise, and showcasing an adept grasp of British irony from the Toronto-born songstress.
Opening song 'WOW' is slow and moody, Parks' husky vocals harbouring the lightness and fragility of Stevie Nicks, but with the febrile strength of Patti Smith. As she croons over a moribund piano-led backing, her latent aggression reminds of classic Oasis. Later, in 'Good Morning Glory', she exudes a sultry swagger that even the Gallaghers would be proud of.
By contrast, lead single 'Happy Birthday Forever' is lighter, even accommodating a fluttering flute line before breaking away in a downpour flourish reminiscent of a Madchester Monday. Recurring themes of fractured relationships and separation suggest that it is not always sunshine and roses in Parks' garden. An acoustic guitar joins us for 'We Are The Music Makers and We Are The Dreamers of Dream', but these are broken dreams which appear to triumph over joy.
'Brexit at Tiffany's' is superb – the second single and the standout track of the album. With its retro easy-listening accompaniment, it is reminiscent of The Doors, Parks delivers a poetic stream of consciousness that scatters dictionary definitions in a whispering growl. Not in any way political or even vaguely topical, but a killer song nonetheless.
The album closes with a piano and the sound of rain in 'Saint Michael'. Retrospective and atmospheric rather than apostolic in its tone, once again we sense the mood of disallusionment lurking beneath skittering percussion and a lonesome guitar solo.
Although 'And Those Who Were Seen Dancing' may initially appear fractured and flawed, every song cries out for inclusion. Each piece of this musical quilt knits together, recreating the comfort and warmth of a favourite blanket, and delivering an odd sense of safety and sanctuary within a world filled with angst and worry.
7/10
