In 2022 I called caroline “perhaps the best band in the U.K” in my article about their debut, which I named my album of the year. Seeing the band on Tuesday night at a sold out Islington Assembly Hall, I not only feel vindicated but stronger in my conviction.
As the band walks out on stage, soundtracked by “Fistful of Love” by Anthony and the Johnsons, I am struck by how unified a front they look. The band originally started as a trio in 2017 and expanded over the years until settling on eight members in 2022. Their debut, caroline, was a compilation of songs birthed from improvised jam sessions at New Cross Pubs, many written before all members joined. But tonight, as you can hear on their latest album caroline 2, they are “a proper eight person band” according to informal bandleader Jasper Llewellyn. It is as if all members looked at each other and asked “are we doing this or what?”
While they still have that amorphous quality where it feels as if any member could pick up any instrument and give it a go, caroline 2 feels more focused, shedding some of the jam-band ticks and folky overtones in favour of a heftier sound. The midwest emo riffs, droning violins and melodies sung with wide open-mouths are still here, but now the time signatures are more intricate (“Total euphoria”), the use of slippery auto-tune adds a new electronic glow (“U R UR ONLY ACHING”), and a guest feature from Caroline Polachek pushes their sound into new realms of alternative pop.
As they open with the slow-burning “Song two”, I am instantly reminded what makes caroline so special: they always come across as sincere rather than pretentious, even when leaning into their more experimental tendencies. As a band they are interested in the process of creation, which rubs shoulders with performance art without ever feeling alienating. When Llewllyn performs a sound cleansing ritual involving a snare drum, an alto-saxophone and an amplifier, it doesn't feel out of place, instead it creates a real sense of intimacy with the audience. Spiritually, they are more Cafe Oto than Islington Assembly Hall.
Another playful touch is when Caspar Hughes brings out the “Thames guitar”, an acoustic guitar which was hung over the Thames in an attempt to soak up the river’s primal energy. This may warrant an eye roll, but the guitar’s weather-beaten, resilient sound is strangely evocative and fitting for the song “Coldplay Cover” which repeats the line: “doesn’t move as half as well as you’d like/ when you’d like”. On stage they recreate the song’s overlapping parts by placing half the band on either side of the stage as violinist Magdalena Mclean walks between them with a microphone. It’s a bit of theatre that is entirely justified, simply because it sounds so good.
Their wide-eyed sincerity seeps into the way they play, which never feels indulgent despite their signature swelling crescendos. These epic breakdowns can feel like a shortcut to emotional release, the music equivalent of a dog dying in a film. But caroline know when to reign it in and when to let these moments soar. As the drums crash down on “Two riders down”, it is a spectacular, weightless moment of catharsis that feels entirely earned.
