CD: Blood Red Shoes - In Time to Voices

Third album from Brighton boy-girl duo balances rage, noise and beauty

share this article

'In Time of Voices' is many things, but it's not Fleetwood Mac

There's an unlikely comparison in the publicity material that accompanies my copy of In Time to Voices, the third release from Blood Red Shoes, in which the Brighton boy-girl duo are likened to Fleetwood Mac. While name-checking sound-alikes is the staple of the lazy music journalist, Nicks and Buckingham would probably have been the last place I'd have gone for a point of reference for Laura-Mary Carter and Steven Ansell's eerie harmonies.

Like a flash of the eponymous footwear in a dark city alleyway, Blood Red Shoes are a shock to the system. Lead single "Cold" opens with Ansell's thudding claustrophobic drum beat before the song explodes with a simple riff and Carter's ominous, melodic howl. "Cold, cold, ha-ha-heart," she gasps on the closest thing the song has to a chorus and there's little indication if it's an impassioned plea or dripping with venom. It's the onstage breakup with none of the subtlety.

With less accomplished production the band's simple formula of layering squealing guitar upon frenetic drumbeat could so easily descend into sludge but - with the possible exception of the shrieking 90-second interlude that is "Je Me Perds" just past the album's mid-point - each track packs enough of a melodic hook to stick around long after the rage has passed. Given that its snarl was inspired by a fight that ended up with Ansell face-down in the street having been mugged by two prostitutes, it's as intentional a choice as any.

Of course it doesn't hurt that buried in the noise are moments of sheer beauty; such as the moment that the breathy, doll-like vocal that begins "Silence and the Drones" crescendos into something else entirely; or the woozy "Night Light", which carries the air of weary disassociation that only follows once all the feelings have been cried out. Carter's echoey, drawn-out backing on Ansell-fronted album closer "7 Years" feels as if it could go on forever – and when it stops, at just after four and a half minutes, the silence is as audible as anything else.

Add comment

The content of this field is kept private and will not be shown publicly.
Name that you would like to appear as the author of the comment
It doesn't hurt that buried in the noise are moments of sheer beauty

rating

4

explore topics

share this article

Help secure the future of arts journalism

In this era of algorithmic recommendation, opaquely sponsored content and AI slop, theartsdesk’s mission to preserve real journalistic and critical values has never been more important.

If you like what you see here, please join us 
in this mission.

Subscribing to the site will help us in our coming 
redesign and expansion.


If you do this before the 31st August this will be at our guaranteed founder’s rate: 
your subs will never increase again.

Subscribe now for £5 per month. 
or yearly for just £40.

Or if you simply want to support us with a one-off donation, you can do so here.

more new music

The welcome return of a foundational album of electronic minimalism
Surrealism, social observation and more muscular sound from the Leeds quartet
A powerful personal outpouring of joy and pain - with a great beat
The London quartet have taken to playing large venues with ease, as this career-spanning set showed
The Philadelphia punk rockers continue to impress
A partial account of how Brit-punk absorbed an aspect of reggae
The Fez Festival Of World Sacred Music and the Fes Gathering bring the world together
Bristol band aren't happy but offer up the occasional sing-along
A new album is unveiled and old tunes are played for the last time