Whereas many artists head into the studio with a clear idea of what the finished song will sound like, Tiger Adopt takes an approach of knowing what the rough direction of travel might be and then searching for those sounds that built such a pathway once in the studio. Although there are clear influences and inspirations at work, a hint of Laurel Canyon’s cosmic looseness, Kate Bush’s artistic drive to what sounds she could squeeze out of those early Fairlights, and Talk Talk’s search for the sound of near-silence. This is music made perhaps less through working to a plan than by finding the unexpected in the happy accidents along the way. (Again, see Mark Hollis’ later albums.)
The opening bars set up a hint of the far east in its vibe, a sort of sino-sonic blend of tradition and cutting edge, and from here the song floats and drifts and swoons and soars on synth washes and pedal-soaked guitar reverie, even as the wonderfully off-kilter (and purposefully so) beat tries to tether the song in a more definable reality. “Mortlake” seems to be built on absolute calmness, yet with an absolute intensity at its core… and I’m not even sure how you do that.
This dream-like, almost lysergic, gently trippy sound is perfect for the message of “feelings of delayed grief, in particular the anxious and claustrophobic feeling of being trapped in a place and time that is disconnected and dissonant with the feelings you are experiencing.” And while that can be interpreted literally, specifically, and personally, in a broader sense, it could almost be a soundtrack for the way many of us are feeling towards the increasingly obfuscated and false world we find ourselves struggling to understand today.