From Which We Were Raised

At Last An Atlas’s brand of melodic lyricism has existed through the ages, but it’s traditionally been produced by thoughtful young men lazily strumming lutes/bouzoukis/guitars whilst reclining on divans/in bedsits (depending on geography and time). In contrast, much of From Which We Were Raised sounds like it was produced by a reclining young man strumming an Amstrad computer (possibly loading the classic ’80s game Roland On The Ropes). And that, although possibly bad for the posture, is no bad thing, because we’ve had an overdose of guitars, and the warmly synthesised tones and Gary Numan drum beats that wash in simple arrangements around the softly sung melodies of Greg O’Brien are sufficiently lovely to carry his intimate thoughts on love and relationships and bedroom decor.

It’s not all synthesis and (well-recorded) vocals; occasionally O’Brien’s courtly songwriter roots come through in the form of gently plucked guitars (‘Passing Days’, ‘Wayside Days’ and ‘Port of Call’). My favourite bits are the ones that feature the additional vocal of Frances Downey (‘Heaven Knows’ and ‘Take Me Home’), probably because I like boy/girl vocals with my synths (something to do with childhood memories of The Human League). Generally, however, this is a very sweet and well-produced record, which falls pleasantly between Jeffrey Lewis and Hot Chip. Initially, I thought it might be nice to have some more dramatic changes in energy or tempo, but after a few more listens I changed my mind. It’s reflective, self contained and works perfectly the way it is.