7"
Two of indiepop's OGs return and unite for a timely reminder of their enduring pop credentials. It's an interesting union, both acts having followed similar creative trajectories, Rocketship's transition from spirited jangle on their debut to space-age electronics on their second uncannily similar to The Cat's Miaow's transformation into Hydroplane (and not forgetting that inbetween 10" on Darla that splits the difference between all three acts). Though hardly prolific, Rocketship have been more active of the pair this century (not hard), and while their contributions here are characteristically lush and dreamy in all the right ways, it's really the unexpected reappearance of TCM that steals the headlines. The years may have passed but the muse remains the same: simply strummed, swiftly expressed melancholic gems that know full well to make Kerrie Bolton's voice the star of the show. Bolton is a vastly underrated communicator, an economy of wonder present in her ability to get across the right (often heartbroken)idea with the smallest of fuss and softest of touch. And three songs in under six minutes? That's verging on prog territory for a band as compact in their songwriting as TCM. I hear that the recent reunion shows in Australia played witness to a large proportion of people far too young to have heard TCM first time around. No doubt. Eternal and universal wonder lies within. The kind, Rocketship aside, you have to wait around for a few decades to witness again.
