British trio Saint Etienne make a shimmery return with their 12th album, The Night (December 13th, 2024) on label Heavenly Recordings. With The Night, Sainte Etienne take a diversion from the usual cinematic 60s pop, in a direction of something more introspective, crafting a moody yet expansive sound that evokes the feeling of wandering through a half-lit city after hours. The album listens as one long track of sonic poetry, taking us through a liminal, layered dreamscape, dabbed with fleeting images and forgotten memories.
When the first single Half Light came out on November 14th, I was a bit surprised as I wouldn’t necessarily turn to Saint Etienne when in need of the solace of this type of nocturnal sound, devoid of ego and hormones: I would probably listen to King Krule, Orchid Mantis or My Head Is Empty. But now that the completed edition is here, it is making total sense. Naturally, this particular reflective/nostalgic theme works best coming from the hands and minds of people who have a whole life and work to look back on. It feels like SE have employed “night” as a metaphor for that last last phase in life, like Dylan Thomas : Do not go gentle into that good night/Old age should burn and rave at close of day/Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
The opening track, “Settle In” sets the tone for most of the subtle, atmospheric production. A tension between the past and future: “Time Flies / It Slips And Slides” …
On a minor note: Sarah Cracknell’s voice has always been the group’s defining instrument, but on this album I often felt it was superfluous. Her voice has changed its colour with age, and seems to have more strength than necessary in certain places (Hear My Heart) where it could have done more with the airiness of yore. The spoken-words parts are often more interrupting than adding anything to the flow of the music, sounding more like Joanna Lumley on one of her travel shows, or the narrator of a meditation app. The words are often stating or underpinning the already obvious – the parts that are already depicted by the sounds themselves – and should have been left to the imagination of the listener. Sometimes it works out really well: tracks like When We Were Young, Nightingale and Preflyte sound more like “recognisable” Saint Etienne songs, and Cracknell‘s voice seems to be much more integrated here.
The aural painting of The Night ends beautifully with the retro dub sounds of Alone Together, ending with the same phrase “Time Flies / It Slips And Slides“, which at that point, makes the whole thing fall into place and leaves you with goosebumps.
The Night is an experience and shouldn’t be missed by Saint Etienne fans in general, but will especially “connect” to us, Gen X-ers, looking back at a shining era with accomplished detachment, realising that some of it still glitters in the dark…
