Review Summary: As I keep floating ahead...
The Heavy Frigate is the second full length album of Ashley Collins brainchild
Endling, hailing from the unusual musical source of portside Rochester. Speaking from experience, the British coasts of past-glories are now some of the most uniquely depressing places. A reminder of what was, perhaps, abandoned arcades and shops, and frankly, shite weather. However, the coast provides a land of infinite opportunities provided one has a boat and an urge. This album conveys such a journey taken. Thus, in a precursor Endling writes that, ‘The Heavy Frigate is a compendium of conflict told through a nautical lens - of calm seas that belie the frantic happenings below, of arduous journeys bereft of destination’. It’s one which is equally as rich in aura, as it is in performance.
My first exposure to the music of
Endling was within the video for the album’s second single,
‘A Question of If’. The song, like a microcosm of the album, is blissful, longing and melancholy. It drifts slowly into one’s ear and remains, softly sneaking deeper with each listen. It’s a noticeable highlight, even amongst an album of many. However, prior to this slow-burning success, what first caught my eye was the video itself. Here, a montage of film reel is presented, layered with a distinct grey hue; footage of boats sailing, humans, wildlife, and places, all existing, all unnamed. A montage of vague moments full of life, separated contextually, and ever-changing. Yet, it conveyed so much to me. Watching it I was reminded of a documentary I had seen years ago, ‘As I Was Moving Ahead, Occasionally I Saw Brief Glimpses of Beauty’. Within which, brief moments of our director’s life were cut together without regard for chronology, explanation or clear end goal – they just
were. As he quips,
‘it’s always more of the same’. Something about the on-the-surface insignificances of another’s life were so compelling, despite my being so distant in space and time, context, and perspective of those presented within the footage. This effect is transmitted in almost the same way by the aforementioned song’s video in which we are presented with clips of life moving on, as it always does. Perhaps the emotion conveyed exists because those fleeting moments of very little can feel so familiar to one’s own fleeting moments of very little. A strange, distant nostalgia.
In the same vein,
The Heavy Frigate feels familiar. Perhaps this is through its composition, which effortlessly floats in a luscious dream-pop ambience, backed with gently tapping minimalist percussion that is blissfully accompanied by the vocals’ monotone croon. This in turn makes space for more luxurious sonics, such as twinkly sparse keys, and ambient droning waves washing over the surface. It’s comfortable, welcoming. Lyrically, the album is similarly successful, if not more so. Centred through a nautical lens, our narrator applies seemingly distant naval themes to poetry relatable to the listener. There are consistent motifs throughout the runtime of longing, uncertainty and inevitability, developing a landscape not too dissimilar in feeling to the album’s artwork. Sonically,
Endling here holds his influences at arms-length. It’s familiar, but not off-puttingly.
Where this familiar feeling truly comes to the forefront is in regards to something almost unexplainable. As per the earlier mentioned documentary, it’s the all-encompassing feeling of comfort that is key here. Using the language of its nautical theme, the album floats effortlessly tranquil over the sometimes-harsh waves detailed lyrically. It’s within these ambient moments of zen-like patience where it truly shines. To fans of this seemingly placid corner of music, this
is the pull. When done well, this comatose bliss and paradoxical sense of vague melancholy truly carries the listener. The harsh waves of sea can look so good from afar, and sometimes music helps one float on through. This is an album which succeeds in doing so.
