02|24|09 A Maze and Amazement / The Critic
Having spent the last week walking around minus contact lenses, I’ve appreciated what a beautiful thing the out-of-focus world is. To begin with, living in a haze was frustrating and confusing. Now I’ve grown to love it: everything has become deeply colourful and surprisingly personalised; being unaware and somewhat out of control has never been so entertaining. Form appears out of the blur, often to my complete surprise and delight. Not knowing what things are from afar, I just guess and steep myself in the delusion.
The Enright House came into my life at just the right time.
Mark Roberts has laid himself bare on this album, though just out of sight, within a murky bubble. Songs appear where you least expect, and are punctuated by hushed tones, which he sings to himself, more than to any expected crowd. The album screams with quiet frustrations, and though it seems like Roberts will unleash a tirade at any point, he restrains himself, and this tense quiescence is so much louder as a result.
He seems aware of his situation on songs such as ‘Up’, as he says he’s “not dreaming / things are spinning incessantly out of control,” with vocals surrounded by a flurry of sequenced drums and broken synth tones. But despite sounding frustrated at being so lost, Roberts never tries to seek some escape. When it seems like there will be some clarity and resolution, The Enright House swallows itself up again.
The ideal soundtrack for people to break up, give up, and fall apart to.
Reviewed by Simon Wallace.