Swings and Roundabouts - Goldbug

Having exhausted all entomological metaphors in my previous reviews of Goldbug, I was left in the dark trying to describe the stunning debut album Swings and Roundabouts. I just keep coming back to natural images; the frame of a train window, the low constancy of buzzards, and glimmers of sun in the corners of a cold room.

The album is crafted down to the smallest details, from the order, the names, single/album covers, and music videos, Goldbug has a very clear vision of what it achieves as a whole. Musically, this emerges as mature lyrical and instrumental patterns that link loneliness and loathing with soft and earthy motifs. Even in moments of agoraphobia, going outside means “to dip my toes” (I Said You Said).

Each song has a spine, something that allows for the crowds of aches, groans, and wishes that wash in from guitars and drones, and in an especially lovely interlude on “Junk Start”, brass. Where a lot of music attempts to create vistas in the imagination, something hinted at in “Aqueduct” and its accompanying flying car music video, Goldbug masterfully captures the textured intensity of life in miniature - what the world looks like from between the blades. Whether that be the jittering denial of “Will-O-The-Wisp” or the slow heat of the sun after a long winter on “Coldsnap,” Swings and Roundabouts is ambitious and often dissonant like art-rock but has that intuitive pull of folk. An album that is all movement, all change, and yet solidly and uniquely brilliant.