The Fiction Aisle – Fuchsia Days

From the Mailout: We are extremely pleased to announce the arrival of our second long-player, Fuchsia Days, out today (17/06/16) via Chord Orchard/AWAL.

Described by thethinair.net as “…remarkably immersive…striking a keen, almost meditatively restrained balance between ambient, dream-pop and drone…”, the album is available to buy now across all digital platforms. Physical copies (limited-edition hand-numbered deluxe CD/digipak) are available exclusively from the Chord Orchard webshop.

Physical copies: chordorchard.bandcamp.comiTunes

Full album streaming now exclusively at thethinair.net

Listen to Fuchsia Days on SpotifyFuchsia Days on YoutubeThe Fiction Aisle Facebook

Threnody (For E. A.)

Fuchsia Days Reviews and Interviews – click links to read in full

crayolalectern.blogspot.co.uk Every now and again, although less and less frequently, a piece of music arrives which feels like a cosmic gift, soothing and allowing my mind to wander in a new space, free from the burdens of the world without denying them. It allows me to contemplate the world and my time here whilst affording the luxury of creating a vast 3-dimensional illusory world where I am free to roam, to imagine.

It is a ghost land where I fall in love all over again. It reminds me of the love I have in my life and teaches me to remember this, not to take any of it for granted. This is music which brings tears – healing tears which have remained unshed for too long; a very physical reaction of the skin as the music drifts through me, goosebumps, hairs on the back of the neck, the body is undergoing a deep tissue spirit massage.

It doesn’t demand you listen to it either, rather it draws you in. I believe in music as a force of magic, that we can change people’s minds in some ways. There’s an element of the hypnotist in the exceptional composers and music makers; Thomas White can count himself as one of them.

If this sounds all a bit hippy dippy, I have to say that is not where I’m coming from. I’m coming from the same places of pain, stress, worry and occasional despair which most of us experience. This music is a gift in that it appears to understand this and it offers to hold our hand through its journey.

I really feel that I will enjoy this album for some years to come.

monolithcocktail.com Still crooning the same unrequited dramas in the Bacharach/Sinatra/Hawley tones, Thomas White as The Fiction Aisle has however moved on from the plaintive sumptuous orchestral suites of his last epic Heart Map Rubric for something more explorative. Inspired in part by the ambient panoramic sweeps and mood pieces of Eno, White’s smooth longing timbre lingers palatial style over a series of expansive soundtracks on his latest epic, Fuchsia Days.

A musical polymath on the Brighton scene, used to adapting new sounds, White has successfully shifted between the enervated halcyon psych of the Electric Soft Parade and the rambunctious indie/alternative country rock of the Brakes, to hone a solo career as a wry and weary romantic crooner.

Wistfully, lilting, occupying the same sentiments and musical ground as Robert Wyatt’s Cuckooland and Paddy McAloon’s I Trawl The Megahertz, Fuchsia Days, despite its often-lamentable themes, allows White’s vocals to wander meditatively. On the stirring suffused, Spiritualised heaven bound, ‘Tonight’ and the cinematic minor opus title track his voice disappears completely; emotion and heartbreak described instead by the subtle instrumental layers of gradual release.

Though imbued with his new ambient settings, White still repeats the melodic traces of McCartney, and occasionally Harrison; especially with the underplayed romance, but less cynical heartbreaker ‘The Dream’: a real tear-jerker that you could imagine being penned by a Sunflower/Friends era Bruce Johnston. And on the universal encapsulated opener ‘Dust’, there are reverberations of both ELO and Queen’s vocal effects.

There’s nothing to pine over, no regrets, White’s latest vessel still channels the same balladry emotions and concerns. The songwriting has just been given more space to breathe; flowing, fluctuating and lulling over sweeping romantic and sometime elegiac organ evoked maladies to capture age-old woes and boons. Another successful transition from White.

ondarock.it “Fuchsia Days” is an atypical album, almost shy in its limited physical availability (fifty copies), a decisive step towards an even more evanescent musicality, where psychedelic and Canterbury style musical plots take over, setting aside the flattery of pop.

The tour with Crayola Lectern and the recent passion for music by Peter Blegvad and John Greaves have left their mark on these quiet and almost algid sound excursions. The twelve almost mystic minutes of “Tonight”, a tribute to the Pink Floyd of “Obscured By Clouds”, are full of precious vocal chiselling and rivers of keyboards, a song characterized by an almost imperceptible lyric crescendo, which avoids tinsel and pleonastic tones, despite the epic almost symphonic evolution of the finale.

Also the introductory “Dust”, with the a cappella choirs and melancholic synth textures, brings into play the 70s, citing the choral perfection of Beach Boys and Queen. Still the voices are the protagonists of “Threnody (For EA)”, the most ambitious and cryptic song of “Fuchsia Days”: an almost hypnotic and visionary ballad that shifts the clock forward towards the Radiohead of “Ok Computer”, giving the most memorable melody of the whole project.

“Fuchsia Days” is an album with a fascination of elegance, almost a provocation for the modern user, subjected to the hammering use of skip during the listening phase. Songs like “The Dream” and “Salt In The Wound” appear lazy and indolent before showing all their charm. Easier to remain enchanted by the glacial and deeply lyrical tone of “Country Mile” or the “Blade Runner” landscapes of the title track that complete a sound path that promises interesting future developments for the band of Brighton.

theartsdesk.com Fuchsia Days, as its title, punning on a classic Can album, hints, moves things on. The main comparison that springs to mind, however, is not Krautrock but Pink Floyd in their ruminative mid-Seventies pomp. Opening cut “Dust”, a multi-tracked, synth-tickled acapella, recalls their Wish You Were Here period, with a smidgeon of “Bohemian Rhapsody”-era Queen thrown in. Gone is the indie idiom: The Fiction Aisle have cut loose and floated off, as the deliciously gigantic, melancholic “The Dream” makes clear.

The cuddly, almost ecclesiastical “Tonight” is akin to a 12-minute tribute to late Floyd keys-man Rick Wright. However, Fuchsia Days does not wibble into tune-free noodle. White’s way with an easy listening melody is intact and his love-lorn lyrics ground things. “Country Mile” is an ode to a Scandinavian good time but could be read as a brass-led elegy for post-EU Britain with lyrics such as “We’re all inside our own heads now/We are leaving new friends, leaving this town,” and “Won’t be seeing you for a long while… I feel lost.” Whatever it’s about, it’s beautiful, as is “Threnody (for EA)”, which comes on like a sumptuous fusion of Radiohead and The Polyphonic Spree.

Everything ends with the 14-minute title track, another instrumental suite that strongly recalls Vangelis’s seminal music for the film Bladerunner. Fuchsia Days is a bold move sideways and forward, making this a band to watch like a hawk. At this rate, they’ll have another one out by Christmas. Fingers crossed.

ondarock.it “Fuchsia Days” is an atypical album, almost shy in its limited physical availability (fifty copies), a decisive step towards an even more evanescent musicality, where psychedelic and Canterbury style musical plots take over, setting aside the flattery of pop.

The tour with Crayola Lectern and the recent passion for music by Peter Blegvad and John Greaves have left their mark on these quiet and almost algid sound excursions. The twelve almost mystic minutes of “Tonight”, a tribute to the Pink Floyd of “Obscured By Clouds”, are full of precious vocal chiselling and rivers of keyboards, a song characterized by an almost imperceptible lyric crescendo, which avoids tinsel and pleonastic tones, despite the epic almost symphonic evolution of the finale.

Also the introductory “Dust”, with the a cappella choirs and melancholic synth textures, brings into play the 70s, citing the choral perfection of Beach Boys and Queen. Still the voices are the protagonists of “Threnody (For EA)”, the most ambitious and cryptic song of “Fuchsia Days”: an almost hypnotic and visionary ballad that shifts the clock forward towards the Radiohead of “Ok Computer”, giving the most memorable melody of the whole project.

“Fuchsia Days” is an album with a fascination of elegance, almost a provocation for the modern user, subjected to the hammering use of skip during the listening phase. Songs like “The Dream” and “Salt In The Wound” appear lazy and indolent before showing all their charm. Easier to remain enchanted by the glacial and deeply lyrical tone of “Country Mile” or the “Blade Runner” landscapes of the title track that complete a sound path that promises interesting future developments for the band of Brighton.

thethinair.net Led by former Electric Soft Parade/Brakes musical polymath Thomas White, The Fiction Aisle are a Brighton-based musical collective whose second album, Fuschia Days, establishes them as a singular alt-pop force in the making. Spanning seven tracks, the album – which we’re pleased to premiere here – is a remarkably immersive release, striking a keen, almost meditatively restrained balanced between ambient, dream-pop and drone in the vein of Robert Wyatt, Broadcast and Flaming Lips‘ more symphonic efforts. With White’s monophonic Oberheim OB-1 synth at the heart of the mesmeric soundtrack-like quality of the album, it’s a wistful, beautifully-rendered journey traversing everything from true love, ecstasy and death to depression, madness and space. All the classics.

theundergroundofhappiness.blogspot.co.uk A wonderful album of drifting orchestral pop from the former Electric Soft Parade man Thomas White of Brighton and friends.

It is a collection of pieces unhindered by percussion or rhythm in the conventional sense. Instead each song drifts as if free of gravity and there is very much a sense of suspension above the earth in the bed of synth rumbles and drones.

Opener ‘Dust’ has immediate shades of baroque in its vocal layers and meaty chords, although that feeling is soon overtaken by spacey bleeps and whines.

The atmosphere of ‘Salt in the wound’ is akin to drifting in space, with echoes and whispers and asteroid trails, before a booming church organ launches behind the words “You don’t know what love is”. It’s as if White has embarked on the ultimate interplanetary journey to escape the pain and loss of earthly existence.

‘The dream’ has an unmistakeable Beach Boys flavour, a reaching chord-shifting quality similar to something like ‘A day in the life as a tree’ from Surf’s up.

The elegaic near-instrumental ‘Tonight’ is reminiscient of the outer reaches of Paddy McAloon, as White hums along to an irresistible meandering synth symphony. It’s 12 minutes long but the minutes fly by in a kind of extended rapture.

The ambient space hum of the title track, replete with choral and cosmic undertones, is another heavenly 14 minute kosmische drift of endless possibilities.

There’s even a cover of a Camera Obscura song, ‘Country mile’, as if the album wasn’t glorious enough already.

I’m not sure if melancholy is the right word but there is a definite sadness running through the record. However it is wrapped in such gorgeous and intriguing musical forms that it doesn’t seem to define the record.

Which makes this an uplifting and triumphant record.

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