One week at number one on w/e 13th April 1985
I sense I'm going to have problems continually finding new ways of talking about the Cocteau Twins; their progression was almost abnormally linear. Most groups have fumbles or falls, suffer dramas, try new styles on for size, accidentally upset everyone with a vile comment, or even strive to impress their record company and bank managers with an attempt at an obvious crossover hit. The Cocteau Twins did none of those things - they just remained confidently in their own lane, steadily getting more effective at just being themselves.
“Aikea-Guinea” is another example of how enviously skilled they were at crafting soundscapes which, while bereft of intelligible lyrical meaning, evoke unexpected memories and emotions. I didn’t actually know that the track was apparently named after the colloquialism for a seashell in Scotland, which makes my refreshed response to it interesting – about a minute in, I was suddenly visualising myself, aged four, ambling clumsily along Bournemouth beach, slightly overwhelmed by the vast emptiness of it all but comforted by the melody.
The track feels surrounded by aerosol mist and spray, swirling and skying around Liz Fraser’s breathy and ecstatic delivery, with only Simon Raymonde’s basic, plodding bassline acting as a worldly anchor. The overall effect is like being guided by a motherly hand, Fraser insisting that while it might seem foreboding, this new landscape is both beautiful and safe – the melodic reassurance is offered immediately after each ambitious run of vocal skydiving. In terms of production and arrangement, it’s stunning; there may be have been other similarly adventurous and purposeful pieces of indie studio work out there in 1985, but if there were, I’ve come across no evidence of them so far.
The rest of the EP is fresh to me, but doesn’t really hit the same highs, either vocally or in terms of effectiveness. “Kookaburra” is much more leaden and repetitive, while “Quisquose” interchanges disquieting wailing with thudding piano lines and a chorus which sounds the closest to Kate Bush the group ever got.
Final track “Rococo” sounds the most futuristic of the bunch, pushing sounds out of guitar effects pedals that sound incredibly prescient; this is shoegazing in all but name. For all that, though, its unwavering commitment to a very simple melodic idea means its appeal wanes slightly for me before its natural end.