A classical instrument virtuoso from a young age turned pop experimentalist extraordinaire; Mica Levi is one of those people whose talent is so large it seems to cause a constant restlessness to her output. Whether its working with The Shapes or producing Bafta nominated movie scores, it often seems retreading the same ground would be a near impossibility for her. Not because of a conscious decision to willfully push herself but an entirely instinctual one to fight off boredom. When you have this many ideas the only possible direction is forward.

 

Much more explicitly than either of their last two records, Good Sad Happy Bad feels like three musicians playing in a room together, which is unsurprising considering the origins of the record, where the songs emerged from the recordings of an extensive and impromptu jam session. In fact many of the songs sound like they were done in one take. In ‘Sea Air’ Mica repeatedly fails to reach the high notes of the songs hook, meaning the invitation to “breathe in that sea air” sounds less restorative and more likely leave you feeling woozy and nauseous, gasping for breath.

 

As the title suggests, Good Sad Happy Bad tackles emotion as its primary lyrical subject matter but in a strangely flat and monosyllabic way. Songs on the topics of feeling stressed, sad, suffering or waiting explore these themes by doing little more than repeating them within a phrase. They become completely abstracted, giving the record an uncomfortable numbness and glazed over look in its eye. The backbone of ‘Unity’ is built from an unsettling sample of Mica screaming that works in opposition to the drugged up, reverb drenched lead vocals so that they almost end up cancelling each other out. ‘Thinking It’ delivers a spoken monologue on the pros and cons of living a healthy life style versus hedonistically enjoying your youth whilst you still can, but the narrator isn’t able to come to any decision, instead left in a state of paralysis, unable to commit to one or the other.

 

Whilst almost every weird creation on 2012’s Never immediately popped into life because of a new sound your brain was forced to recalibrate itself to, the palette on Good Sad Happy Bad is considerably more muted, guitars are at the fore front of much of the music although the playing is often stubbornly unconventional. A track like ‘Crushed’ really isn’t built from much more than drums, vocals and a solid riff. In fact it could almost be bracketed as a DIY rock song, although ones that are closer to the outsider art of The Shaggs than it is to anything you might hear on the radio.

 

Much of the music has an inchoate quality to it; not fully formed but merely emerging as an idea that is exercised before the band become bored and move onto the next one. ‘Waiting’ is simply a metallic sounding synth sound that ascends up a scale only to cycle back round again. Lead single ‘Oh Baby’ is one of the only moments on the album that feels like a fully-fledged song and not just a glimpse of one. Using a submerged, echo chamber synth and Mica’s rasp sounding on the verge of a mournful blues singer.

 

Its definitely an album that rewards repeated listens. While at first it seems impenetrable and even at some points monotonous, slowly it reveals itself to be full of subtlety and detail. Melodies often take small but unexpected turns, and there’s countless blink-and-you’ll-miss-it flourishes in the production that add depth and colour. For a group so readily described as pop, Good Sad Happy Bad isn’t an immediate listen, nor is it even a particularly easy one. But there is melody and intricacy hidden here amongst all the obtuse vitiating, you just have to work that little bit harder to uncover it. Generally, I would say it’s worth putting the hours in.

Louis Ormesher