Cinematic Orchestra, The - Ma Fleur

_Ma Fleur_ represents a radical departure from the Cinematic Orchestra that we knew and loved. Whereas their earlier album were interested in grand, sweeping arrangements to fill all the available sonic space, _Ma Fleur_ has simplified arrangements that emphasize and clears out that sonic space. The "orchestra" aspect has been reduced to a guitar -- but the net effect is no less stunning. The simplicity lends itself to a much more personal and intimate album.

For example, the piano chords and strings that start off "That Home" maintain a quiet dignity throughout. "Familiar Ground," possibly the best track on the album, has some terrific emotional builds, augmented by the shoegazer-influenced electric guitar strums. The earnest vocals carry a wonderful sense of melancholy -- listen to how the chorus ends the track on an unresolved chord.

More than anything, the album as a whole sounds like a journey -- one track leads sonically into the next. Each track on his earlier album was its own discrete journey, but _Ma Fleur_ pulls them together beautifully. Thus, the reverberating guitar lick that lead out "As the Stars Fall" reprises at the start of "Into You." Louise Rhodes, who whispers seductively betwixt the layers of guitar plucking and whispering on "Music Box," quickly takes the lead in the episodic "Time and Space." Patrick Wilson ends the album on "To Build a Home," an extension of the opening track.

But for those who mourn the loss of the "old" Cinematic Orchestra, there are still several tracks that have the angular jazz of the original, like the freeform clarinets on the title track. Fontella Bass, who brought immense power on the _Every Day_ album, lends her bluesy lungs again on "Breathe." But instead of demanding another repeat of their earlier success, why not bask in the glory of their new work? A flower by another other name would smell as sweet.

I feel compelled to say something about this, the Cinematic Orchestra's fourth full length album. It seems to be one of the most polarising releases of 2007, as far as popular opinion goes.

I listened to snippets of this album several months back on Itunes, and upon encountering the song-based, bold departure from their previous works, I decided not to buy it.. Because it simply wasn't what I was expecting. Five months on, and eagre to do some purchasing, I decided to give the album a second chance. Initially, I was quite disappointed.. The album lacked rhythm and continuity, and was a drastic departure from everything I'd heard before. But, having sacrificed my money, I decided to give it the benefit of the doubt. And I'm so glad I did.

Without wanting to harp on too much, I think the key to appreciating this album is forgetting everything that has gone before. Once I began to appraise it on its own merits, rather than comparing it to the band's previous efforts, I fell completely in love.. The lyrics, the composition, the flow of the album.. It all clicked. And I think this is the sad thing about artists like the Cinematics attempting to depart from their established sound; fans, both loyal and otherwise, will always have expectations. And this will more often than not blind them to the development and direction that artists chose to take.

Often this shift may well be a negative one, and the scepticism totally justified.. But I feel the need to stress that this is not one of those instances. Forget Motion, Every Day, and Man With The Movie Camera. This is something totally different.. But no less worthwhile. It is beautiful, beguiling, and intelligent.. And whether or not this is indicative of things to come is beside the point, because what Swinscoe has created here is something quite timeless. And those who open their minds (and hearts) to Ma Fleur will be duly rewarded.