It isn’t out of the ordinary that we often seek refuge in words and sounds. Whether we are looking for mere comfort or a much more significant healing, music has, willingly or not, been a source for such recovery. And for those who pen and create these vessels of refuge, it is a most personal form of catharsis. It is difficult to discern the ideology or motives behind a band’s work – its raison d’être usually known only to those who created it – but in a case like this, it seems endlessly more difficult.
Feeder lost their drummer Jon Lee to suicide in early 2002 and this album is the studio work that followed his untimely departure. Aptly titled ‘Comfort in Sound’, it is more than just an album of reflection or homage, it appears to be the resulting cathartic experience of primary song writer Grant Nicholas. The album in its entirety is effectively a well-written emulsion of rock inspired pop sensibilities. While the album on occasion feels overly grief-stricken, it is when we take a look at the finer parts that we finally see a band ultimately reaching its potential.
The instrumentation is mostly simplistic – but it is conducive to some of the album’s less melancholic moments. The opening track “Just the Way I’m Feeling” is a juxtaposition of reflective lyrical humming (“Love in, love out / Find the feeling / Scream in, Scream out / Time for healing / You feel the moment’s gone too soon / You’re watching clouds come over you”) with savvy pop friendly rock. Its vocal driven verse is a prelude to its immense sounding choral release – symbolic of perhaps, just the way Nicholas was feeling.
While there is certainly an underlying tone of healing, some tracks mask this with a more strident approach. In the single “Come Back Around”, the expressive gloom (“Bruised with all rejection / we suffer the breaks”) is interlaced in a vibrant rock track – louder and far more biting than the majority of the album’s manner. It directs you into the fuzzed out “Helium”, its drum pounding and screeching guitar work is then smeared by the almost sweet chorus. “Child in You” is best a quiet ambience; sorrowful and intuitive with seemingly hopeful lyrics; “Close your eyes and drift away to someplace new / Where the skies are blue brings back the child in you” – but captures a more bitter consolation than anything else.
It is in the track “Comfort in Sound” that Nicholas is at his greatest; the healing musician. Tinged with delicate traces of keyboards, profound vocal work and the album’s strongest song structure, it is with this track that perhaps, they have truly found comfort. The sound certainly radiates a reflective nature and its lyrics, the most poignant, “We suffer love together as one / an empty heart with nowhere to turn / we find ourselves looking / back another way / a brand new day”. In a strange twist of events, there are some moments that feel overly aggressive – take the track “Godzilla” for instance; powerful guitars, grating vocals and those thumping drums are seemingly lost, an odd inclusion in this mostly thoughtful effort. Thankfully Nicholas’ aggressive tendencies fade fast, and in the album’s last four tracks, that willful, somber approach is once again adopted; from the distinctly sullen “Quick Fade” to the more vocal “Love Pollution” and the gracious ender “Moonshine”, with perhaps the final mark of respect (“But every time we cry / We wave the sun goodbye.”)
While we cannot say whether or not these lyrical tributes of reflection and healing are of the band’s personal tribulations, it is safe to say that if this album is homage of sorts – it certainly is a noble one; for whomever it is meant for. ‘Comfort in Sound’ is not an innovation or revelation, it is simply what the title states.