Fluoxetine Morning sounds unstable, it sounds, emotionally, like the desperate pines of a numbed mind, fluctuating from lo-fi rock to ambient soundscapes that move with a deep set darkness.
The most appropriate word I believe there is to describe this album, in its truest sense, is “naked”.
From its production to its performance everything contained within these 9 songs is stripped down and defenceless.
‘You are the Cold’ is a folk song ultimately but delivered to you with repression, its vocals are soft and verge on a whisper at times while the electric guitar vamps away the main chord progression almost drowning our vocalist.
The lyrics “keep it low, keep it quiet” seem to set the scene for the song, while a soft and simple synth part is introduced when nearing the end and it all builds to a static filled finish.
‘Subside’ brings more lo-fi softness to our ears and then it becomes apparent that this it was very much done on purpose, it may frustrate some but the atmosphere it creates very much does the job.
‘Propanolol’ sees the last of whatever real happiness the first tracks had put forward, from here on the album seems to dig itself into your head and evoke a sense of deep dread and hopelessness that everyone has felt at least once in their time.
Again, this blunt and near-extreme emotional backdrop will no doubt turn people away but those who can withstand its softly pounding sorrow will no doubt enjoy what Fluoxetine Morning has to offer.
‘The Fire on Hold’ has no words, no melody and no rhythm, it’s a slowly churning soundscapes that has an almost metallic texture to it.
Those who enjoy the hypnotic sounds of ambient-drone music will truly appreciate just how perfect this short piece is.
‘Abandon Ship (Fuck Albert Camus)’ very much uses the same formula as ‘You are the Cold’, but now taking on a creepy country vibe it brings an almost light hearted look at the sadness the tracks beforehand had fully embraced.
When the song end there is a build-up of strange sounds that grow and fall leaving only the slightly edited sound of a police siren.
‘Seven Apples’ is the loudest the album gets, the lo-fi rock sound still features the numbed and tired vocals as the first few tracks but now in a new setting it seems to take a different feel.
The contrast feels confused and strange, the band sounding like early Radiohead and the vocals sounding like they are coming from the shower in the next room.
‘Another Pair of Hands’ returns again to the simple set up as shown before and again its raw delivery sits you still in your chair as it slowly washes over you.
‘The Draw’ shows the return of the ambient atmosphere of ‘The Fire on Hold’ but now distorted and featuring repeating guitars and vocals.
The final song, labelled ‘Untitled’, again returns to the stripped down formula, the lyrics speak of last goodbyes and possibly the drowning of a loved one, either way, its sorrow leaves with a temporary hole inside when it’s over.
This may not be an album for everyone but those who enjoy the emotional effect music can have on the mind in its more extreme sense will definitely be able to appreciate what Now Wakes the Sea has achieved here.
Words: Alex Hynes