George Pringle : 'Salon De Refuses'
Released: 7th September 2009
Label: Def To Fals Metal
Another record that has been waited upon for some time now is this debut opus from London’s George Pringle. Having first seen her around two years ago, I was delighted to have discovered something very different indeed. Skatty beats sat underneath gently layered soundscapes over which streams of consciousness are spoken with delightful ambiance and offset by layered vocals which dispel naysayers claiming the young lady speaks so often due to lack of a singing voice, as opposed to it suiting the streams of consciousness approach (check out cLOUDDEAD people!).
The album opens with the swirling beat driven intro of ‘Big Screen Kiss’, a haunting little opening which leads into the, at times, heart rendering ‘We Could Have Been Heroes’ which seems to be full of thoughts of the futility of youth, the tedium of growing up and the loss of that magical innocence that youth holds, which once lost can never be regained. ‘Carte Postale’ is an older song which utilises looped vocal harmonies under the self reflective spoken word to great effect. Whilst also seeming to deal with topics of reflection and loss of innocence, this much more a comment on the individual as opposed to a wider cross section of society. Regardless of topic though, it is a beautiful opening to an album, and one I could listen to on repeat for hours.
Following on from this is ‘Sparkomatic Miami’, the B-side to single ‘LCD I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down’ which is underpinned by a solid beat and funky bassline with a slightly more melodious vocal pinned across a subtle little tinkling key riff. First single from the album ‘Physical Education (Part 1)’ is the most upbeat tune so far and references various 80’s tracks, all with a distinctly ironic and slightly sad tone. Pre-album single ‘LCD I Love You But…’ is an (almost) remarkably conventional piece for Ms. Pringle, featuring nearly sung verses and a definable chorus, all the while retaining that essence of herself. Another older track that was around when I first had the luck to discover her, an old favourite and a great song.
‘Fellini For Prime Minister’ is a reasonably dark piece, opening with a slow, thoughtful beat and depressingly real world lyrics, somewhat akin to watching a particularly joyful edition of BBC six O’ clock news, minus the stoic detachment. Ten minute epic ‘Bojour Tristesse’ can only be described as the centrepiece of the album. A fairly minimal piece in sound and style, reverb drenched vocals float around the opening half before melodic clicks ram home the minimalism until a hazy ending builds until the close. A testament to song writing ability I feel. ‘Pop Hit’ is a song of two halves, though not in the traditional sense. The underlying beats, squeaks and synths are fast paced and intense, while the top ‘half’ if all fantastically harmonious and hooky. An odd pop song then, especially at over five minutes, but a pop song nonetheless.
‘One Night In Koko’ seems to be an odd piece about loves lost, indie nights out with “The Killers, the Futureheads, the Yeah Yeah yeah yeah Yeahs (Bloc Party…)” and dreams of that ‘one’ you spy across the dancefloor but never meet. It is also one of the most meticulously crafted musical pieces on the album, full of complementary disco and electro bleeps and grooves. Then, at only two minutes, the fast paced ‘Extremely Verbal After Midnight’ could easily be mistaken as a quick means through to the final song, but it is so much more than that when one takes the time out to delve into it. I am utterly incapable of quite putting my finger on exactly what it is that so appeals to me about the song, but it is one of my favourite newer pieces. Taking us out is 'S.W.10', which seems to a reference to a London area not all too far from my own S.W.17, and is another finely crafted piece, though more in the vein of ‘Bojour Tristesse’ than ‘One Night in Koko’. A meticulous piece where every drumbeat, synth line, off-key piano riff and moment of silence seems designed to offset the lyrics in a specific fashion. No choruses, or hooks to speak of, just the stereotypical rambling, progressive loveliness of George Pringle I have come to love.
Words: James Hoste
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