Faith & Violence is the debut EP by Glasgow’s Father Sculptor.
Although only released earlier this month, the limited edition 12” screen printed version has already sold out but the record is still available on a rather lovely looking 12” vinyl or if you must, as a digital download if you’re that way inclined.
We are introduced to Faith & Violence through that drum beat as it opens the record’s first track, ‘Basilica’.
The guitars are played sparingly, yet sound pleasingly lush as they flirt with the dramatic vocals of Thomas David.
It’s exceedingly pretty sounding (a cynic might say the amount of digital reverb is akin to a young lady wearing too much make up, but in this instance it works well) and it sets the tone for the rest of the record.
In ‘Sault’, we are treated to a great intro: the soft marimba that occasionally permeates the arrangement is refreshing and makes the ears perk up – a real bonus.
The track, although a little meandering and on the lengthy side keeps up the pace and delivers more than a few stand out sing along moments.
One could be forgiven for thinking Father Sculptor are about to launch into Slayer’s ‘Reign in Blood’ at the start of ‘The Swim’ but fortunately we are treated to one of Faith & Violence’s stand out tracks, if only for the vocal line, “you don’t love someone for loving you / you love them for the things that keep, after affection peaks”.
Morrissey would have killed for that line, and I must say, David Thomas occasionally borders on being that particular Mancunian’s vocal double but this is by no means a bad thing (depending on who you ask).
Although ‘Lowlands’ seems to be garnering the most media attention and certainly the strong vocals deserve this – the cluttered and occasionally outright lumpy drums become a little distracting from the melodic focus of the track and it never really delivers the soaring chorus it seems to promise.
It’s good, but don’t believe the NME.
‘Swallowed in Dreams’ is by far the best track of the record, it’s what Cocteau Twins would have sounded like had they written choruses like Morrissey at his melancholic-romantic best.
This is a strong pop song that really does deliver “the goods” (a chorus to fall in love to) and will have you, or your partner (whoever’s nearest) reaching for the repeat button.
Faith & Violence is big, bold and hopelessly romantic, this only occasionally translates into something a bit U2; unfortunately, in the most bloated sense of the band’s name.
However, it’s essentially a minor complaint – this is a good record, just trim the musical fat and smooth the lumps and the songs will soar to where they should.
Words: Chris McCrory
