Dot Allison - The Lights of the Scottish Angel

To tell a story, you usually need plenty of imagination and a touch of love for what you're trying to narrate. In this case, imagination will only be needed to choose the best, most fitting words; the rest will be filled in by the career of an extraordinary artist.

Dorothy Allison was born on August 17, 1969 in Edinburgh, and her career began very early on.

In 1991, her first band, One Dove, came into being. The lineup, which she founded herself, also includes two other members: Ian Carmichael and Jim McKinven (worth remembering for his stint in the new wave band Altered Images), both on keyboards and electronic effects; McKinven also plays bass. A small curiosity: in its very earliest days, the band's official name was simply "Dove", and only later did they decide to change it to "One Dove".

The band began to attract attention with the release of several singles, which highlighted their dark and distinctive compositional style. In order, before the release of their debut album, came out Fallen (in two different vinyl versions) in '91, Transient Truth (1992), and Breakdown (1993). Especially for the latter, there were various types of releases, including remixes of the title track or of other songs from the band's then still fairly limited repertoire.

Among the names of those who lent their production skills, two figures of absolute importance clearly stand out: William Orbit and Andrew Weatherall. While the former limited himself to a purely professional job, the latter grew attached to the group's three members and recognized their talent. The partnership with Andrew was born right here in Italy: in 1991, during a sweltering summer concert in Rimini to showcase the single "Fallen", the two parties happened to meet by chance.

Shortly after came the release of Morning Dove White (1993). Setting aside the various versions that would later be published, let's focus on the very first release, the most representative one, which also includes several remixes. The album's musical coordinates seem fairly clear, given Andrew Weatherall's curriculum. The record is firmly rooted in the deep-ambient-house period. The rhythms are never extreme, but rather laid-back, quietly rhythmic underneath, delightfully dark and melancholic. The variation in sounds and the melodic approach are always exquisite, the stylistic range spanning from deep-house weaves to down-tempo atmospheres that captivate and never let go. Guitar feedback processed through a sequencer creates sharp, incisive electronic swirls, the beats alternate with great variety, alongside percussion that keeps shifting shape as the tracks go by. One element that immediately stands out is the voice of newcomer Dorothy: personal and deep, moving. Her way of singing is questioning and full of pathos, not yet fully revealed, given what would come later. But let's not get ahead of ourselves, we're only at the beginning…

The touch of a top-class producer is unmistakable. After all, Andrew is also renowned for having produced a masterpiece acknowledged pretty much everywhere as such, "Screamadelica" by Primal Scream. Given the premise, he could hardly have failed to pull off something exceptional.

As already mentioned above, Allison's writing always keeps its momentum dormant, even though she manages to express herself as a singer with decent, if not good, results.

The opening "Fallen" kicks off with a dirty, bouncing synth, small sighs in the background, and a deep, endless digital pulse. The rhythm never fully lets go, always remaining suspended in mid-air, resting on the female voice, which sings: "I don't know why I'm telling you any of this, one thing is, don't ever tell anyone I told you this. Don't save me, just forgive me, forgive me, 'cause I was only thinking of you.. Just You". Already in these words you can glimpse the melancholy romanticism that pervades the artist's soul. A track suited to any situation, never fully danceable nor entirely introspective.

The already mentioned "With Love" is marked by a searing, brazen guitar flow, a minimal-bastard-house sound of the kind only the Sabres Of Paradise (or the Two Lone Swordsmen a few years later) would ever be able to give us.

At the risk of being repetitive, it still feels necessary to stress the beauty of Dorothy's voice, capable of making even silence imaginative. Little drops of magic in these few lines: "White love, this love; this powerful, this pure. Behind our eyes. And when I trip, when I fall; it's just like velvet".

"Breakdown" is a digital-dub number à la "Screamadelica" (no one had any doubt about that, honestly), enriched by loose, sinuous percussive interplay; "There Goes The Cure" has a bit of IDM, a bit of ambient, drops of down-tempo, and plenty of rhythm, rhythm that spills out from every corner. The chorus of the first track mentioned here is heart-stopping, going: "I remember the night you left me, the moon was full, I felt empty. Tides and werewolves may be turned, but you don't know how to cry".

The second track of the pair is framed by stellar bleeps, broken-up rhythmic figures and vaguely industrial noises. Toward the end, a piano crescendo is added that sends chills down your spine, so intense is it. Perhaps the most properly romantic and crepuscular track on the whole record; a shape-shifting episode that changes skin throughout all six minutes. The bass, particularly prominent, locks arms with the other elements, leading things to a close with great grace and tenderness.

A pair of tracks that confirm what's already been said: this band deserved (and deserves) to break out of the underground cult status it's stuck in.

"Sirens" follows in the same vein as the previous tracks, with the addition of a series of very funk keyboards, proving how the One Dove/Weatherall pairing can craft thoroughly valid tracks while switching up the elements, without losing cohesion in the final result. The lyrics are striking and full of poetry: "You can send me ravens, I have the will of a demon. Wish me all the ills you have. I am touched by angels. Plant your secrets in my silence. My sadness caught in your gaze. Sail over me."

The metallic reverberations of "My Friend" leave indelible chills; the track unfolds over well-judged shifts in rhythm, over which various sonic layers are stacked, from the processed snare, to Dorothy's backing vocals, right down to the sound of an unidentifiable stringed instrument that sounds like a harp. A mystical and alluring passage. The following "Transient Truth", one of the very first singles released at the start of the band's career, carries on with great consistency, further developing the formula laid out so far. The strength of the whole album, confirmed once again here, lies in its ability to conjure, every single time and never repetitively, an atmosphere that completely envelops the listener, leaving them powerless to react. This track has a remarkably strong percussive drive right from the opening seconds, in which some synthetic choirs (an element very present throughout the whole work) pair up with Dorothy's angelic lament. Then, again, the words: "Listen, can you think about this, if you take my words as promises, well you can keep them. They're yours to keep". Lines that highlight Dorothy's great capacity for introspective analysis, as she co-writes some of the lyrics.

"When I sit and dream, the skies cry with me. Now that I'm alone, your voice wraps round me", goes the following "Why Don't You Take Me", a gorgeous pop ballad enriched by a spacey synth and Dot's voice, ever more assured and angelic. The album closes with a few reworkings, such as the piano reprise of "With Love" and the (already previously released) remixes of "Breakdown" and, once again, "With Love".

Still in that same year (1993), numerous remixes of some of the songs on the album were released, a testament to the great interest Dorothy and co.'s work sparked among industry insiders. Particularly fruitful were the contributions of Stephen Hague (a storied producer on the English scene in the '80s), who handled virtually every release of the "With Love" single, put out in seven different versions, between various mixing-desk interventions and tracklist changes.

The version containing the strongest moments is the one released by Boy's Own Recordings. Besides the radio mix (courtesy of the aforementioned Stephen Hague), already heard on the album just discussed, there's a reworking done by the band itself, titled "With Love (Lonesome Demo)". The main changes are the running time stretched to over 10 minutes, and the heightened percussive component. Where the rhythm in the original version was very diluted and dissolved, here the beat comes through much more decisively, although the extended length keeps the drumming from becoming too obsessive. Given who made the remix, this shows the chameleon-like identity of the band's members, always ready to question their initial choices and tweak the work they'd originally done.

Closing things out are the two mixes placed at the end, titled respectively "With Love (Guitar Paradise Mix)" and "With Love (Meet The Professionals Dub)". While in the first the synth spasms build up alongside the guitar reverb, in the second the structure is heavily reworked with dub rhythms (as the title suggests), deconstructed synths and drum-machine patterns, and with the vocals removed altogether.

Afterwards, still in 1993, the second (and final) single taken from the album was released: "Why Don't You Take Me", also put out in various guises. After the original version of the title track, there's a cover and a previously unreleased song that depart somewhat from the music presented so far. First, "Jolene" by Dolly Parton (the American country singer active in the '50s/'60s) is roughed up and transformed into a shimmering, stellar pop number (and here Dorothy's voice starts to show certain traits that would recur in her solo career), then "Skanga", an odd episode with vague tribal and psychedelic flavours. Finally, a fairly decent remix of the opening track, credited to Stephen Hague, running about 4'30". The track, however, clocks in at 5'50"; after a few seconds of silence, a snippet of a composition credited solely to Dot pops up, which she would later reissue under the name Dot Allison on an EP titled Mo'Pop.

Solitary guitar chords lash through the silence with great impact, in a deliberately sparse and stripped-down recording. Dot speaks and enchants with droplets of melancholy, giving a small taste of her future career. Worth noting, tacked on at the end, is a remix of "Why Don't You Take Me" by Underworld, released on a vinyl once again put together by the duo Stephen Hague & Andrew Weatherall.

After this wave of recognition and collaborations, the band fell dormant for three years, during which the three members stayed together but released nothing new. Several unreleased tracks were written specifically for radio, but unfortunately they never officially surfaced and are thus impossible to find. According to the band's official website, these songs are titled "Untouched", "Drowing", "Mystic Baby" and "Swampman's Revenge".

In 1996, the band broke up. Perhaps Dot's clear compositional gifts had already become evident and the other two members simply couldn't keep pace with her, or perhaps she herself had decided to try a solo career — whatever the reason, from that point on there's no record of any further contact between the three.

Three more years of silence separate Dot Allison from the release of her debut album, titled Afterglow. Everything has changed, and that's clear from the very opening of "Colour Me". But let's take it slowly. The record features some notable names: Hal David, the longtime collaborator of Burt Bacharach, lends a hand with production, Kevin Shields (yes, the genius behind My Bloody Valentine) plays guitar on the gorgeous "Message Personel", Arab Strap contribute a remix of that same track, Gary "Mani" Mounfield (formerly of the Stone Roses, later of Primal Scream) plays bass on several tracks, and finally Richard Fearless of Death In Vegas, who also produced a remix of "Message Personel", serves as co-producer. This collaboration with the English band would prove highly enduring over the years; Dot would go on to appear on several of the group's records both as a singer and as a songwriter. Specifically, she sang on "Dividing Horses" (from the album "Scorpio Rising"), and earned a co-writing credit on "Dirge", released on the album "The Contino Sessions".

Right, now it's time to talk about the music.

"Afterglow" sits within the tracks of a deeply personal singer-songwriter sensibility, with a strong pull toward relaxed, dreamy rhythms. There are traces of vaguely dream-pop influences, scattered trip-hop residue, and, more broadly, a love of introspective, melancholic music, as had already been hinted at during the One Dove years. The lyrics — pure poetry, all written by Dot herself — blend disenchanted suffering, tales of a girl who never grew up, stories of mysterious experiences, everyday fairy tales, and unspeakable pain, all in wonderfully imaginative fashion.

The opening "Colour Me" is already a marvel: simple, carried by a pulsing bassline, surrounded by stray electronic flourishes, and adorned by that voice, finally free to express all its warmth, singing these words: "As the tides they draw and close, And the seasons turn again. Will the moon still wax and wane? Will you always colour the day?". The vocal effect on the chorus is swaying and sticky, almost forcing the listener to listen, as if caught by some sonic demon.

Next comes "Tomorrow Never Comes", perhaps the most beautiful love song Dorothy Allison has ever written. It oozes a veiled love, never fully declared; a painful, finished love: "You're sailing away, to another shore. My heartache today, I can't tell you anymore. And I thought I saw your shadow in the street today, but that was yesterday, oh that was yesterday [...] Believe me I know it's been hard for you, there's never an easy way to let it go. And I dreamt that you were telling me you dreamt of me, but now I'm waking up, I think I'm waking up [...] And I thought I saw your jacket in my room today, but that was yesterday, oh was that yesterday?". Words that, sung by such an angelic voice, stir a truly unique emotion. They're framed by sparse guitar chords, electronic rumbles in the background, and small piano notes that appear and vanish in the blink of an eye.

"Close Your Eyes" comes to meet us, and the tempo picks up considerably, giving a hint of what's to come on the following album, We Are Science. Here too the lyrics are of great quality, caught between enchantment and relief. The chorus goes: "Close your eyes, Let me take you to the sun. Burning slowly, held together in the sky". On the surface it looks like a simple pop/rock ballad, but in its deeper folds it hides precious melodic ideas. Best listened to at night, on headphones.

Right after comes "Message Personel", already mentioned for featuring Kevin "My Bloody Valentine" Shields on guitar. Almost 7 minutes of sonic desolation, nothingness turning into fullness, words repeated insistently until they become meaningful: "I'm inside, I'm outside. I'm with you, without you. Don't love me, don't leave me. Don't trust me, believe me. Embrace me, release me. Deny me, then feed me. I'll own you, then lose you. So distant, so near me". Contradictions that prove crucial within the context of an invaluable song. So invaluable, in fact, that Arab Strap (and later Death In Vegas too) would remix it (tacked onto the end of the album). Musically, it's a weave of acoustic instruments (a battered guitar, piano, pianola), reversed tape loops, light electronic treatments, with the voice itself becoming an instrument. Perhaps the interpretive peak of her entire career.

Then comes "I Wanna Feel The Chill", a strange, questioning song, almost evocative in its imperceptible unfolding. English-style dream-pop influences are more noticeable here than ever, especially in the middle section. The alternation between dense and sparse arrangements runs throughout the whole record, and in this case, aside from the guitar and some background noise, there's little else instrumentally, apart from a piano that climbs step by step until it reaches the sky in the final seconds.

"Morning Sun" is a (nearly) fully instrumental piece. Interesting experiments between electronic beats and altered piano patterns that point further toward the following album and the evolution of her sound. One can sense the full extent of the talent possessed by the Scottish songwriter, capable as she is of writing deeply personal songwriter material while handling electronic treatments with great personality and grace.

Another absolute highlight is "Did I Imagine You?", perhaps the most ethereal and imaginative track on the record. The many elements present here — barely perceptible electronic beats, various xylophones, violins, triangles — enrich what is a true gem, whispered by Dot: "When I close my eyes, I can see you reach out to me. In my deepest dream, I can hear you call out to me [...] Now and then it seems, I can hear you climb the stairs. Opening the door, I realise you're not there".

Then come the equally special (each for a different reason) "Mo'Pop", playful and sunny, "Alpha Female", melancholic and anguished, and "In Winter Still", icy and cruel. Worth noting too is the singer-songwriter quality of "In Winter Still", suffused with great melodic charm.

Finally, as mentioned, there's the inventive Arab Strap remix of "Message Personel", which pushes its improvisational, tribal side to the extreme, giving rise to a kind of shamanic pop.

No fewer than four singles were pulled from Afterglow: "Close Your Eyes", "Colour Me", "Message Personel" and "Mo'Pop". There are also unreleased tracks, such as "Mr. Voyeur" (a brilliant electro-pop song), which point increasingly toward an electronic turn. The following single features the already-mentioned "leftover" ghost-track from the One Dove days, titled "Blind", here heavily reworked and with a better recording. "Message Personel" includes the gorgeous Death In Vegas remix of the title track, while "Mo'Pop" includes another unreleased song, "Melted", a schizophrenic piece that feels like a digital short-circuit, so jittery and fractured is it.

After a year spent touring the world to promote the album, and writing new material, in 2002 Dot returned to the market with a handful of singles that paved the way for a new release. In chronological order: "Remixes" (Mantra Recordings), "Sampler" (Beggars Banquet), two versions of "Strung Out" and "Substance".

The shift is bold and immediately apparent. First of all, it's worth noting the collaboration with two true giants: Dave Fridmann (the brilliant producer who played no small part in the success of Mercury Rev and Mogwai), and Keith Tenniswood, member of the electronic duo Two Lone Swordsmen. The melancholy, largely acoustic tones of Afterglow give way to electronic impressions with an almost techno feel, built on dark, subterranean beats. The shift in approach is already clear from "Remixes" and "Sampler". The first contains Slam's remix of "We're Only Science" and two remixes of "I Think I Love You" by Radioinactive Man, both highly percussive and slightly disorienting. Drifting through the various versions of the subsequent singles, there are two explosive remixes worth mentioning: Felix Da Housecat's take on "Substance" and Tenniswood's version of "I Think I Love You" mentioned above. Also worth noting is the unreleased "Lo-Fi Love Song", a stripped-down ballad with romantic lyrics, streaked with vividly colourful robotic effects.

That same year sees the release of the new album, We Are Science, which marks a further turning point. The guitars have almost entirely vanished, making room for a sea of synths and electronic instruments, with the groove now carried almost exclusively by a drum machine. In hindsight, the change isn't quite as dramatic as it seems, given how much electronics already populated her previous effort. What doesn't change is the quality of the Scottish artist's work, who crafts a strongly personal and impeccably constructed record.

The lyrics remain highly introspective and cryptic. The same relentless melancholy is ever-present, and once again moments of pain grip the heart.

The opening "We're Only Science" is an effective techno-pop anthem, built on a brooding, driving rhythm from the start, surrounded by a whirlwind of vivid synths. The phrase "We're Only Science" is repeated obsessively, fuelling an almost apocalyptic atmosphere.

The following "Substance" makes its way in with striking melodic confidence, languid and sinuous. The electronic flourishes are never banal or predictable; the rubbery texture of the synths recalls certain 80s synth-pop, especially Soft Cell, whose entire discography Dot must surely have absorbed. The groove grows increasingly animated, always cut through by a voice that hasn't changed one bit — as gorgeous and aestheticizing as ever, utterly unaffected by the shifting atmospheres around it.

"You Can Be Replaced" is less synthetic and picks up the thread left hanging from the previous album, again driven by a strong streak of lyrical non-sense. A sick, corrosive lyric, as these lines attest: "You can be replaced. You've got the power. To give your cluelessness a voice. Saying loads of nothing. With a lot of noise. Walk down the street. Resentment in your arms. There's something free in us. That you despise. We're the survivors. We are your rivals".

"Performance" is a down-tempo track out of step with the times, beautiful and evocative, built around a few well-placed synth figures and a voice that often delivers moments of imaginative disenchantment. Perhaps the most relaxed and quiet piece in her catalogue, indebted both to isolationist ambient and to instrumental trip-hop. The following "Wishing Stone", by contrast, sounds like it could have come straight off Afterglow: a folk-pop tune flecked with xylophone notes, sharp razor cuts and enchanted lyrics: "You tore my skin, but I didn't bleed. Tried to steal my thoughts, from in my sleep".

Striking is the electronic dark-pop that gradually unfolds in "Make It Happen", close to certain new wave suggestions popular in the 80s. Dot's voice, skilfully treated, becomes even more solemn and full; the final effect is astonishing, even though the lyric is simply the repetition of a single phrase ("How does it feel to know that this is real"). Even glitch touches applied to pop surface in "Strung Out" (vague echoes of Slowdive's "Souvlaki"), tiny noises relegated to the background of a percussive chaos that is, this time, genuinely live, staged by a frenzied drummer (J. Ament). The use of the xylophone is on a sharp rise here too, tinkling and fastidious. The cyclically repeated guitar chord is the foundation from which Dot takes flight with her fairy tales. Incredibly danceable is the album's club track (excluding the final remixes), "I Think I Love You". Vicious, cutting synths shred the voice into a thousand fragments as it gurgles the same phrase for all five minutes ("I Think I Love You"), while the digital beats are a rumble that shakes you to the core. Such a minimal, hypnotic track leaves dangerous residue behind. The record then returns to its roots with the nocturnal ballad "Hex", and ideally closes with a shorter clone of the masterpiece that was "Message Personel", here reworked as "Lover".

In a later edition of the album, two explosive remixes are appended at the end. First Felix Da Housecat launches a highway-speed techno-pop rocket by dismantling "Substance", then Slam tries his hand at deep, minimal techno with his dissection of "We're Only Science". A high-impact closing statement.

Shortly after the album's release, between 2002 and 2003 Dot embarked on a world tour alongside Massive Attack, with whom she also co-wrote several songs, including the lovely "Aftersun". After this experience, the Scottish artist entered into a close, ongoing collaboration with the much-talked-about Pete Doherty, joining him on an acoustic tour called "Bilo Albino". This artistic closeness led Dorothy to co-write several songs with Pete (the only one available, "I Wanna Break Your Hearth", is a gem), eventually becoming a full-time member of Babyshambles and playing on the "Stone Me What A Life" tour. Allison also appears on some recording sessions by The Libertines, where she plays glockenspiel.

In 2004, worth noting is her collaboration with the aforementioned Slam, which led to the composition of "Kill The Pain". Featured on several of Slam's own records, the track enjoyed decent success, prompting the release of a 12" of remixes. Specifically, it includes three mixes plus one previously unreleased track, titled "Bright Lights Fading", produced by Alex Smoke.

The electronic style here veers toward a highly minimal techno-house, beautifully realised and never overdone. The vocal shards woven into the electro interlocking patterns carve out several tracks that are a real pleasure for anyone who loves driving, rhythm-forward electronic music; Slam's talent for putting together a groove meshes perfectly with Dorothy's voice, which slots seamlessly into this new context, its charm now more explosive than graceful.

Toward the end of 2004, Dot returned to the studio to record new material of her own, setting aside for the moment the numerous collaborations that had kept her busy. Indeed, after a few years' pause (spent composing), the EP Beneath The Ivy was released on 18 August 2006, produced by Tim Simenon and Geoff Smith, and mastered by Kramer (who had previously worked alongside Low, Galaxie 500 and Daniel Johnston).

The three songs on this EP mark a return to the skeletal atmospheres of Afterglow, even more stripped-down, with no arrangements or added frills. "Quicksand" is a gorgeous folk ballad built almost entirely around a voice-and-guitar duet, occasionally cut through by a xylophone strike. The following "Blade Of Words", on the other hand, settles into trip-hop rhythms never before attempted by the Scottish artist. Western-flavoured guitar pairs with a low-key groove, ringed by metallic ripples born from guitar feedback. Dot's voice sounds more mature here, at times rougher and more raw — perhaps simply the effect of time passing, but certainly not a sign of expressive decline. "Paper Rose" echoes the opening track, raising the emotional stakes even further. Guitar, words, harmonica, background harmonies, a few faint xylophone notes, and a towering vocal presence that tears at the senses and carries them into a limbo of unforgettable sensations and pulsing vibrations.

Around the same period, we should mention, purely for the sake of completeness, the duet with Bobby Gillespie (the singer of Primal Scream) on the song “Up Against the Wall Red Neck Mother”, which unfortunately remains unreleased and impossible to find.

During the latter part of 2006 and the start of 2007, Dot wrote and recorded her new album, titled “Exaltation Of Larks”. A handful of intense, autobiographical songs, once again made with legendary producer Kramer, in a partnership that's as close-knit as ever.

Influenced by the stark tones of late-period Gene Clark, the Scottish artist once again digs deep into the folds of the soul. The result is a set of strongly melodic songs, guided by the skilled hand of Kramer, who also handles the arrangements. Music that, in a state of perpetual rapture, achieves an imaginative form, cocooned in its own emotional chrysalis, repressed and imploded. A slight narrative, yet open to several musical readings, a drifting quality that seems to defer the main theme indefinitely, an intense nostalgia for the past, the recurring memory of sounds and colours. Dreams of youth and lost illusions, fleeting stories, like a shadow that suddenly takes shape on the ground.

The structure underpinning these drops of melancholy turns out to be, ultimately, very spare. Often we find ourselves listening to nothing but Dorothy's voice and her guitar, supported by a handful of accompanying instruments. Piano, acoustic and electric guitar, mandolin, banjo, a few piano notes and violin. Little else, aside from the occasional sporadic percussion. A choice dictated by a process of personal introspection, which led Dot to craft songs with a distinctly singer-songwriter, intimate feel. Songs that don't follow one set path, branching off in multiple directions. At first glance it might look like a pure folk-pop album, but we soon notice a thinly veiled soul spirit emerging forcefully, before blending with fine streaks of country.

It opens with “Allelujah”, and the magic is intense right away. Restless gusts of air and children's voices are the prelude to a prolonged, exhausting litany. Already in this track the atmospheres of Afterglow come to mind, a kind of mysticism surfaces, and the voice is wrapped in a seductive veil. Small drops of piano, a desolate guitar, sporadic wails in the distance. It sounds like a cross between “Message Personel” and “Tomorrow Never Comes”. The final angelic drift is pure pleasure.

“Thief Of Me” opens with great fervour and pathos, a stunning song led by the violin, touched by what feels like miraculous inspiration. The rhythm becomes less sucked-in and more unfurled, unspooled, developed. Strong doses of melody, with a prominently featured banjo added in. Fragments of the past come rushing back, forcefully. Ghosts locked away in the most hidden corners of memory take shape once again. Almost bordering on the most dreamlike psychedelia, the final moments carry a sinister charm.

Pure vocal folk (Joni Mitchell is listed among her influences) on “Sunset”. Her words, simple guitar chords, moments of rapture, gusts of organ. Tiny electronic touches stand out on closer listening: imperceptible loops on the notes, digital flecks in the background that sound like a flock of singing birds. The following “In Deep Water” stands out both for its instrumental richness (banjo, mandolin, guitar, various types of percussion) and for Dorothy's vocal performance. The first aspect reveals an almost obsessive attention to arrangement that never goes overboard: despite the richness, there's never a hint of excess. As for the second, we're faced with one of the most moving performances of her career. Not a conventional vocal, but constant shifts in key, phrasing and release. When these two elements reach perfect cohesion, it's pure enchantment.

Tears of sorrow break through in the touching “You Dropped Your Soul”, beautiful to the point of being wounding; unfamiliar emotions emerge from the restless “M'Aidez Call”, another singer-songwriter gem. “Tall Flowers” draws heavily from Afterglow, reaffirming her great passion for the quintessential dark chanteuse, Nico. Horror-soundtrack tones in the background, spare guitar chords, reverb-drenched voice (an effect she's always used), a handful of scattered piano notes. Rare glimpses of light, a release from the oppressive clouds, take shape as the rhythm grows more intense, marking out a sort of underground little march.

At this point comes, in this writer's opinion, the finest song on the album. Already featured on the previous year's EP, titled Beneath The Ivy, “Quicksand” displays an almost miraculous alchemy. Quicksand that slowly, exhaustingly swallows up life, memories, loves, the precious scraps used to animate the most insignificant moments of existence. Background choirs, voices from the Beyond, a dragging pace. Around the 2'30” mark, drums come in, setting up a minimal, still dissolved rhythm; at this point Dorothy's voice unleashes its beauty without limits, reaching peaks of crystalline grace that leave you breathless: “Look At This, Now”, she repeats. We remain here, listening, and admiring, without the strength to react.

“Shivering”, opening the final stretch of the record, draws from every episode that came before it, managing to hit the mark once again. The noisy filaments of violin prove highly effective, the percussion carries a tribal flavour, and the closing vocal, filtered through a radio effect, lends it prestige and enchantment.

The final track, “The Latitude And Longitude Of Mistery” (a wonderful title), is a happy farewell: the constant shifts in rhythm, the great instrumental variety, the never-tamed snare drum are just some of the features that let us say goodbye without a lump in our throat. Worth remembering and treasuring is the instrumental ending, growing progressively quieter, the seconds ticking by, fading out like a flame consuming a candle.

If time — five years, to be exact — allows one to gather ideas, thoughts and feelings, work through them, and set them down in black and white, then Exaltation Of Larks is a shining example of that theory. Five confused years, spent in various places, worn down with effort and dedication. What results is a fistful of songs that earn applause, shatter the heart, and send silent shivers through the whole body.

Thanks to Mauro Roma for his valuable contributions.

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