This is the Norwegian prog trio’s fifth album. Lyrically, we’re told, “A Day at the Beach” is about a man “leaving his family behind into an unknown future. It’s the contrast between the desperate individual struggling to survive and people in power observing at a safe distance”. What I find most interesting is the music.
In simplistic terms, this is Porcupine Tree with electronics, especially if you listen to the opening track “Machines and Men”. The beat could be a heartbeat or a machine. The lyrics are simple. The keyboard player adds his touch, and the net result is a delightful, free-flowing, pop-oriented song. Its 10-minute duration seems like 3, so catchy is it. The electronic sound from the keyboard player then bleeps like radar or a heart rate monitor as the “A Day at the Beach part 1” begins. But it’s clear that this hypnotic song with its mellow sound waves is deep and melancholy. The singer is full of sadness. It’s light but intense as we breathe in its beauty. Shame that it did not go on for longer. “Into the Unknown” has an element of new wave about as it starts. The keyboard once again and the waves behind it allow us to float away gently. The singer tells the story wistfully. I felt he was trying too hard here with his vocals, in part spoiling the splendid aurora around him. And away we flutter like a helicopter. Quiet radar bleeps can be heard in this dreamscape. This is prog at its most delicate, as the atmosphere stays soft but with a guitar solo now setting the scene, the music becomes more lush, transcendental and as ever melancholic. “Sunsets” has the harder edge of prog rock, but once again Airbag dazzle us with instrumental-inspired dreaminess as the bass guitar, keyboard and guitar create another melancholic world, aided by the plaintive vocalist. There’s a clear comparison to Pink Floyd here in the way this builds up and there are comparisons in theme and style to Porcupine Tree once more, but let’s give Airbag some credit here. What they have created here is delightful and atmospheric. Warning, warning … the bleeping sound of the heart rate monitor, the floating clouds and the mellow sound waves make a welcome return as “A Day at the Beach part 2”. This is nothing short of luxurious melancholy. The final piece is “Megalomaniac”. Its ethereal calm is for once disturbed by a near violent burst, at least by the standards of this album so far, but as ever the guitar takes us away to higher places before we return to the soothing and sophisticated tranquillity which is so much a feature of this album.
I can safely say that it was a sad day at the beach, but equally one which was full of melancholy, emotion and beauty. Airbag do not resort to shock, but indulge us in expanses of mellow soundscapes, which allow us to float away and reflect on the sadness. “A Day at the Beach” deserves praise for its sensitivity and evocative musicianship.
(8/10 Andrew Doherty)
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