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As the mastermind behind Scottish folk-pop favourites Randolph’s Leap, songwriter Adam Ross perfected a sound that was located somewhere between the whimsical chamber-indie of early Belle and Sebastian and the muted wildness of folk auteur James Yorkston. For his first album under his own name, 2022’s Staring at Mountains, he took a bit of a left turn, plunging deeper into personal joys and griefs and taking his music in a folkier and more stripped-back direction. To some extent, Littoral Zone sees him reconcile both sides: the sonic perfectionism that characterised many of those Randolph’s Leap albums has reasserted itself over the DIY ethic of the solo debut, but that album’s more personal and reflective themes remain at the forefront of Ross’s writing.
Littoral Zone’s attention to sonic detail is partly enabled by producer and instrumentalist Andrew Wasylyk, who adds a unique depth of sound to any recording he’s involved in. His contribution is audible from the opening moments of Free Will, which kicks off the album. Ross composed Littoral Zone on piano, and Wasylyk creates a subtly experimental musical bedrock, indebted to folktronica and trip-hop, which gives spaces for melancholic keys and then dampened bursts of brass to speak their minds.
But if the sound is partly down to Wasylyk, the lyrics are all Ross’s work, and this is where he really excels. He is able to get across important themes with a rare mixture of gravitas and humour: Free Will’s very first verse contains a description of a neighbour suing the makers of Frazzle over the death of his koi carp. It’s an absurd but, at the same time, hyper-real detail, completely believable, and delivered with Ross’s deadpan sense of understatement. It’s a genuinely funny song (wait for the moment he casually tosses out a meticulously crafted quip about religion and tattoos), but it also has some serious points to make about our relationship with faith and science.
Such is the case right across the album. Craft and artistry combine to perfect effect, as do the lighter and darker lyrical elements. Apogee is a sprightly, string-laden chamber pop song about the transformative powers of love with more than a hint of Lloyd Cole about it. Its darker twin, Shrinking, deals with the inevitability of ageing; Rachel Simpson’s quiet bursts of brass give it a studiedly worn-out air. The sprawling Ego is an evenhanded examination of the complex relationship between self-love and insecurity.
It’s no accident that these songs seem to exist on boundaries or deal with the blurred spaces between positive and negative thought: the album’s title refers to the shifting boundary between sea and land, and these nuances have been at the forefront of Ross’s songwriting since he relocated to the village of St. Cyrus on Scotland’s east coast. I Get It Wrong is a tender love song set on the windswept coastal paths around Ross’s new home, while The Going is a reliquary for minute local detail wrapped up in melancholy strings, Gillian Fleetwood’s beautiful backing vocals and a smouldering guitar solo.
Caught the Sun has the feel of classic piano balladry about it, a la Carol King, but listen more closely, and the lyrics take it closer to Randy Newman territory. Union Gary is a funny character study with serious things to say about British foreign policy and the extreme polarisation of opinion, and Brambles is the vehicle for some of the most surprising and unlikely rhymes you’ll hear this year. Imagine Squeeze doing a murder ballad, and you’ll be in the right ballpark. There are musical surprises too: the slick synth and scratchy guitar of Life Is Not a Competition provide an unexpected nod in the direction of some of those earlier Randolph’s Leap albums with their hints of disco.
Littoral Zone feels like a landmark album in Adam Ross’s career, a kind of synthesis of the most impressive elements of his full band and solo work up until this point. Those in the know have long been aware of his immense gifts as a songwriter; in a fair world, this literate, funny, humane album would cement his status as a national treasure.
Littoral Zone is released on 24 May on Fika Recordings.