No Frills Reviews

A fucked-up kaleidoscope of glorious noise

Joyce is the work of Jimmy Watkins; a former GB athlete, minor Twitter celeb known for his running reviews, and ex-member of Welsh cult heroes, Future Of The Left. With his varied exploits, you could maybe label him as someone who doesn’t stay in one place for too long (which I’m gonna do for the purposes of this review). And that sense of restlessness is reflected on Voyce.

Beginning life as a Watkins solo project, it developed into a much more collaborative affair, including contributions from members of The Cure, Adwaith, and Big Special, amongst others. It’s an album that defies easy categorisation, by virtue of having so much going on. It’s kind of like you’re racing through Watkins mind a mile-a-minute (pardon the shitty pun), catching glimpses of different influences along the way. It’s a bit chaotic and a bit confusing, but it feels as though there’s chinks of light emerging from darkness; scraps of beauty trying to survive amidst harsher climes (I suppose there’s a metaphor for life in there).

The album is bookended by its purest moments; a meditation to open, and a child’s voice to close. The calm either side of the storm in-between. The Eastern mysticism that briefly hangs over the opener is quickly washed away with the distorted synth squelch of the title track, which has a squint-to-see-it resemblance to Elastica’s Britpop classic, Connection. These sharp left turns are present throughout, perhaps best demonstrated on Bamboo, where minimalist electronic ambience sits alongside an industrial squall.

There’s hints of Watkins’ old band, Future Of The Left, in the sing-song noise-rock of Poc Pon, in particular. And Watkins’ vocal cadence recalls that of FOTL frontman, Andrew Falkous. From the clanging electro-buzz of Deja Vu to the ominous goth-rock of Foreword by Michael Sheen, Voyce can initially seem like a difficult proposition, but it becomes clear that there’s some good old catchy tunes lurking beneath all the noise. Mr Blue Sky is a classic slice of lo-fi indie-pop and there’s a psych-blues banger under the fuzz on My Luna.

But the real highlight comes on penultimate track, Hum Hotline. It feels like a real failing on my part to say, in a music review, that a song is difficult to describe, but it somehow feels completely apt here. You may initially think you’re getting an atmospheric spoken-word piece, before it bursts into life, transforming into something else entirely. I’m only about 25% sure what any given lyric is, but I know it sounds absolutely fucking urgent. The kind of song that stops you in your tracks and makes you wonder what on earth you just heard. It feels like the culmination and encapsulation of what Watkins’ was trying to achieve on Voyce. The noise is never more glorious.

Best Tunes: Mr Blue Sky, My Luna, Hum Hotline

---

More Reviews