Without a doubt, Glasvegas is one of my favorite bands. I’ve written about them numerous times here at P-Mag, and one of these days, I’ll catch one of their gigs. There is something wholly transcendent about their music that makes me simultaneously want to do nothing but let it wash over me, yet also start writing immediately. If art’s purpose is to make one feel, then Glasvegas go above and beyond.
During my Alphabet Soup column, I wrote about “Euphoria, Take My Hand” for The Letter E, and what I said remains true:
The lyrics and shimmering guitars are attempting to rise above shitty circumstances, but that “waiting for impact” feeling remains. The impact could be good or bad, but there’s the sense that something big is on its way.
When the band released their 2011 album, Euphoric Heartbreak, I ordered both an autographed CD, as well as signed the 7” vinyl single. “Euphoria, Take My Hand” is backed by “Georgia, Walk With Me,” a song that also features the breathy synths singer James Allan plays on the full album. It sounds like an intro to something else — I kept waiting for the drums to kick in, or for the melody to soar higher, but no. Allan has written a quiet, pleading moment that is more about dreamy atmosphere than what one might consider a “typical” song. http://youtu.be/X_cV5FvtXgQ And that’s partially what I love about Glasvegas — they make the music that feels right to them, independent of what tradition or popular sentiment might dictate. There is something very literary about the stories and moods they create through their songs, and that is why they make me want to get to work.
The future, the past The first, the last Heartbreak, I’m not holding your hand anymore…
Let the songs envelop you. Let them tell you what you need to know.