Conjuring a cloudy atmosphere of dramatic tensity, ‘Where The Ships Go To Die’ explores the vitality of nurturing relationships with those we hold close to us.
Toying between guitar tones akin to the early days of Fleetwood Mac and sombre dusty vocals, Colin Clyne constructs a dark-folk tale lingering on the shores of anguish. Utilising steel-stringed acoustic guitars, jolting piano chords as well as guitar slides, the music has an intense, industrial country sound to it. The obscure mix of brash instrumentation certainly solidifies the suspenseful feel of the track, but doesn’t sway very far from its opening sounds.
Though channelling its intriguing, misty aura effectively, the track does travel in a very linear style, with little differentiation between the tracks alternate sections. The chorus sounds closer to a build-up or bridge as opposed to an definitive chorus, leaving the verses to circle back around again without really feeling like you’ve moved away from it. The instrumentation of the song is utilised well, but the melodies don’t really wonder far from the same patterns, and with the song already lacking a noticeable contrast between its sections, the track is left feeling slightly predictable.
Despite the music not feeling dramatically contrasted, it does provide an air of commercial accessibility through its simple to follow melodies and rhythms. The music certainly achieves its ‘rough and ready’ country-folk sound, ironically enough through a very polished, clean sounding production style. The track as a whole is interesting to listen to as the brute force of the piano chords and industrial sounding steel strings don’t lose themselves to the typical sloppiness of country-folk tracks.
It’s certainly admirable that Clyne has manufactured a unique, neat-sounding brashness with ‘Where The Ships Go To Die’ through establishing a more refined take on country-folk, raising the stakes for the future pioneers of the genre.