Slowdive’s Pygmalion certainly isn’t their most accessible album (not that I claim to know what that would be), but for those willing to brave the wall of sound, it can be quite rewarding. It’s easy to get lost in the acoustics and be lifted to another world. It’s as if Pygmalion is what you would hear if you could simplify each of the band’s members down to their musical essence.
“Blue Skied An’ Clear”, in particular, is an amazing track. It was actually my first introduction to the album, years before I ever heard any of the others. While at times it becomes a pure cacophony, it retains a euphonious purity throughout. The mix is nothing but perfect; you can get lost in the whole, or pick out each tiny little piece from the puzzle with ease. It’s so easy to get lost, in fact, that you can forget that Neil Halstead is actually singing. And if you take the time to really listen, the cacophony turns to deliberate bliss. Every listen to this track is different, revealing something new, and every listen is equally incredible.