The ‘Mariana Trench’ is, of course, a metaphor: this place where warm Pacific waters plunge into the deepest, darkest, most remote, and near-lifeless depths on the planet makes a perfect analogy for depression. The title alone is deep with intrigue and information if you stop and think about it.
Beyond that, the song is similarly more than it seems. With a simple folk delivery of acoustic guitar and voice, it is the deft use of percussion and the rising swell of organs that create a gentle momentum that drives it forward, perhaps giving us the feeling of our narrator rising from those cold, black waters toward the shimmering light above him. (If that isn’t taking the metaphor too far.)
The lyrics become more positive, the energy increases, the music more sun-dappled and shimmering as he heads for the surface, and while he might not quite burst through into the warm currents and azure waves of the surface, yet…he is nearly there. As he rises, he leaves ghosts of past lives behind, casts off the weights that seek to drag him down, and heads towards the memory of happier times.
‘Mariana Trench’ is a simple and simply lush song, but more than the wit and wisdom of the lyrics and dexterity of the straightforward sonics, it reminds us that great songs don’t need lashings of musical tricks or everything but the kitchen-sink studio production to succeed; they require a good idea, perhaps the honesty of a live experience, as this seems to be, and a delivery that matches the mood of the music. Less, as they say, is more…Paul Garside has just given us a master class in such an approach. (Not to mention honesty, relatability and a host of other important musical elements.)
