Artist: Patrick Wolf
Album: Lupercalia
Genre: Pop

Lupercalia is a curious album. It’s a beautifully crafted record, rich in aesthetics, yet one which somehow leaves a dry taste in the mouth. For all its catchiness and verve, the songs somehow don’t quite engage the way they should – which is a pity, as for the most part they are gorgeous compositions, just ones which seem to lack in sincerity.

“The City” is an excellent example of this. It’s a positively magnificent opener, building through a prism of jazzy instrumentation and founding itself on a rhythmic brass overture. This is well serenaded by slick, suave vocals, giving the song an old school feel and a beautifully understated piano which manages to add nuance to the block sound. However, the song feels artificial somehow. Something seems to be lacking – almost as if there was so much emphasis placed on recreating a certain style that the honesty and heart of the music went astray.

This is not to say however that there isn’t much to see and adore elsewhere. Wolf excels in crafting a delightfully minimalist sound, fresh and inventive yet entirely absorbing. “House” for instance opens with an airy, almost breathless piano and evolves gradually on a wave of instruments both classic and timeless. The track feels as though it’s meant to be a touch sentimental, yet the sound is so rich it’s all encompassing. The vocals keep this on course and prevent it from spilling into predictability, as they bind all together with a fullness and clarity often missing from this kind of music. “Bermondsey Street” is much the same, with another light and delicate opening that creates an air of shyness. The vocals then cut through this, infusing it with sturdiness and precision and giving shape to an otherwise nebulous sound. The percussion completes this by adding structure and pace so the song appears at once kooky, and yet childlike.

“The Future” uses female vocals to stand out a little amongst the ongoing tenuousness. Juxtaposed with Wolf’s singing, they create a touch of honesty and make the track more heartfelt, which as mentioned above is something lacking in many of these songs. This becomes more ambitious as it continues, with designs on greatness evident in the rolling drums. The other instruments only enter properly towards the end, creating a celebratory and triumphant vibe that lifts it above the norm. “Armistice” is in sharp contrast to this, with a haunting effect to its opening, and an otherworldly, exploratory vibe with hints of excitement hidden within its darkness. The keys and vocals fade in slowly to reinforce this. The atmosphere in this song is perhaps the album’s finest example of what Wolf does best, intoxicating as it is in its stillness. It somehow manages to sound like something much greater and more expressive just in its skilful rendering of the ambience.

“The Days” is another fine example of how to craft a mood. The singing and sound is generally languid, but there are recurrent twinkling keys that manage to add a touch of magic. This makes the song feel realer, and in this it stands out – it has a more vivid presence than just being another throwaway meditation on life and love.

Elsewhere, what’s perhaps most striking about Lupercalia is the intrinsic way in which it combines a classical base with something much more rugged and modern. “Time of My Life” is lavish when it starts, then quietens with the abrupt entrance of the vocals. The drums pull the rhythm in check and allow the song to take a more obvious form, although the exquisite layering means it feels like several compositions in one. The percussion is urgent and the vocals almost detached, so that it captures all the immensity of feeling of its title while still packing a sturdy and enduring punch. “Together” then takes aim at the familiarity brooding in the previous tracks by introducing a more electro, almost trancelike sound. Even with the addition of Wolf’s trusted strings, it maintains a certain spaced style, but in so doing breathes fresh life into the record and creates a welcome upturn in pace. The mixture of the gentle swell of classical instruments with the thumping obstinacy of the electronic ones is striking, showcasing an admirable dexterity on Wolf’s part.

So, as a general rule, this album is a very fine piece of work. Technically, it’s brilliant and for vision and spectacle alone there’s much to love. Wolf’s vocals are wonderful, and the sound he creates rich and pervasive. It’s just a pity that it feels a bit empty at heart. I could be a horrible cave person with exceedingly high standards, but beauty such as this should feel more profound. Setting that aside however, this is an excellent accomplishment.

Score: 7/10
Review written by: Grace Duffy

• Author
• Recent Posts

James Shotwell

James Shotwell is the founder of Under The Gun Review. He loves writing about music and movies almost as much as he loves his two fat cats. He's also the co-founder of Antique Records and the Marketing Coordinator for Haulix. You should probably follow him on Twitter.

Latest posts by James Shotwell (see all)

• 2015’s Most Underrated Films - December 29, 2015
• Passing The Torch: The End Of An Era For UTG - December 1, 2015
• UTG PREMIERE: Before The Streetlights – “Private Browser” - November 26, 2015