Hope, so they tell me, is what kills you. Not the booze or the cigarettes, but hope. Those of us who still have our hearts and our record collections deeply rooted in the halcyon days of post-punk, early 80’s indie, well, we’ve been hoping for a long, long time now. Yes, we’ve skillfully negotiated R&B, EDM and even pretended we knew what Grime was (we didn’t really) but deep down we had a longing ache for someone to come along and fill the ever-widening chasm within us which yearned for a substantial and raucous melange of guitars. Like they say, it’s the hope that kills you.
Holy Esque, a four-piece from Glasgow are not only one of the most cryptic and ethereal bands I’ve heard this side of the millennium but crucially, they could also be one of the most thrilling. This is a debut hewn from the grey tenements of Glasgow and liberally daubed with trembling, caterwauling vocals the result of which leaves me thrillingly miserable. Vocalist Pat Hynes has a unique style which makes him sound like he’s being unbearably tortured whilst holding a pneumatic drill.
At Hope’s Ravine kicks off the mayhem with ‘Prism’, a brooding synth giving way to a simple guitar twang before Hynes creeps into view to advise us of life’s problems with pain, decay and the general breaking down of society before building to a huge end of track crescendo. That’s just track one! ‘Rose‘ is as cheerful as the album is ever allowed to become, an upbeat feel had me worried this was going to be yet another false dawn. However, ‘Hexx’ is the perfect counterpoint, full of mysterious goth miserablism. This is The Cure but with genuine menace rather than drawn as a cartoon.
Oddly, ‘Covenant’ could be Editors had they chosen a different career trajectory, I’m pretty sure Holy Esque will object to the suggestion but there are similarities in the way the band is built around a soaring and unique vocal delivery. ‘Tear’ is a wonderfully delicate cacophony which could so easily have come from The Bunnymen playbook but that could apply to so many of these gloriously painted sonic epithets which swirl and swoop like a swift negotiating a summer spiral.
Of course, At Hope’s Ravine isn’t perfect and if Holy Esque opt to cash in their chips then I can see ‘Silences’ being the crossover anthemic pop hit which will have the youngsters punching the air at festivals far and wide. Aside from the previously mentioned references, there are inevitable nods to Glasvegas and early Simple Minds in here and the overall package couldn’t be any more exciting if it was hand wrapped and delivered by Santa himself.
For some time now, small gaggles of music fans have been huddled together in dark recesses, passing on via Chinese whispers that Holy Esque are no pantomime pretenders, these guys are here to simultaneously damn and save our souls. The weight of expectation is huge but the band have muscular musical shoulders and an album which is as glorious as it is unflinching. Hope, do your best; I have Holy Esque in my corner and life has never sounded so beautifully unsettling.
At Hope’s Ravine is released 26th February 2016 on Beyond The Frequency
