This Mortal Coil
This Mortal Box
4AD

Like petals of beauty buried beneath an inexorable avalanche of consumerist fellatio, the recorded works of This Mortal Coil is, for all intents and aforementioned purposes, non-existent.

Ask the average Vinnie on the street about This Mortal Coil, and he’ll most probably assume you’re making a derogatory reference to the latest design in birth control. Still, one lives alongside a perpetual sense of uncertainty. An uncertainty (and a sense of wonder) that is both colourful to behold and intrinsically vital so far as the spinning of the world is concerned. Especially if we, the so called eunuchs of intelligence are to continue reaching for the coffee pot first thing in the morning instead of the Uzi. Try telling that to a trigger obsessed member of the PLO my friend, and he’ll be spilling the red stuff before you can even think of blurting the word dialogue!

I digress. Vinnies and their Trans-ams, the PLO, the IRA, the SPP and 99.9% (recurring) of all mall lizards in search of a cheap and transient thrill, will never have heard of This Mortal Coil. A pity really, simply because the sheer beauty ensconced throughout the majority of what they do is nothing short of a paramount benediction ala melancholy, yearning, elation and what the hell – LIFE…

This Mortal Coil were not a band in the true conventional sense, but a shifting collective presided over by 4AD founder Ivo Watts-Russell. Over the course of its eight year, semi non-existence, This Mortal Coil produced three albums (It’ll End In Tears, Filigree & Shadow and Blood) which induced visionary interpretations of songs by other artists along with perhaps equally startling songs of their own.

Released last month in the US only, This Mortal Box includes all three albums plus an additional fourth that brings together most of the original recordings that were interpreted.

Originally released in 1984, It’ll End In Tears contains the two Alex Chilton originals ‘Kangaroo’ and ‘Holocaust,’ both of which are fine representations as to where This Mortal Coil are coming from. The former – which kicks the whole shebang off, is a lot more sparse than Chilton’s original 1975 rendition; while the latter is sung by Howard Devoto (original Buzzcocks vocalist who later went on to form the excellent Magazine) and is melancholy verbatim. This may be due to the all conclusive poignancy of the violin, viola and cello which also lend themselves handsomely to the Roy Harper original, ‘Another Day.’

The predominantly keyboard based ‘Fond Affections’ offers just enough information so as to home in irrevocably (translation: void of superfluous sexual bravado) as does ‘Song To The Siren,’ on which vocalist Elizabeth Fraser uses her voice more as an instrument as opposed to a procuring device (translation: unlike Madonna).

On ‘Dreams Made Flesh,’ Lisa Gerrard utilizes a yang t’chi vocal which may explain why she sounds like Edith Piaf singing her way across a Middle-Eastern desert on camelback, whilst clutching the book of utter fluidity!

If one were to dissect the genre in which This Mortal Coil actually record, they’d stumble upon the realisation that their end product is surprisingly bereft of coquettish Pet Shop Turdesque homicidal annoyance. The songs throughout Filgree & Shadow being prime examples: their elegant portrayal of ‘The Jeweller’ (originally recorded in 1970 by Pearls Before Swine), the delicate ‘Meniscus,’ the self explanatory ode ‘My Father,’ ( a soul like requiem that is arranged in such a way that if Depeche Mode heard it, they’d run to the hills of Thailand where they’d remain for the next forty years studying the art of how to be taken remotely seriously), and the pristine cool of Gene Clark’s 1974 original, ‘Strength Of Strings.’

The conceptual aligning of ‘Mama K,’ ‘Filigree and Shadow,’ ‘Firebrothers’ and ‘Thais’ may leave a couple of listeners wafting in the breeze of confusion, but this is more than accounted for by the time they reach ‘A Heart Of Glass.’ A track that can best be described as a moonscape seashore bellyache cerebral twist the night away like we did last drowning ala Titanic seaweed depth charge shimmering oysters from an unknown depth of yet to be clarified organic substance.

Originally released in 1991, Blood is perhaps This Mortal Coil’s finest moment. With the inclusion of such hard-core beauty as their rendition of Chris Bell’s ‘You And Your Sister’ and the Byrds ‘I Come And Stand At Every Door,’ it makes for an album that is by far more loving, more tender and more understanding than anything that will ever be released by the likes of such shopping mall crooners as Michael Bolton and Whitney Hluston.

Then again, the Vinnies of this world will not only have heard Bolton and Houston, but they will most probably believe in the all encompassing bravado, insincerity, crass subject mater and insane sales figures that such marketable pop whores swear to steer clear of.

No wonder divorce is on the up and up.

The piquant gradual build of ‘You And Your Sister’ is an acoustic ballad that’s up there with the likes of The Pretenders rendition of ‘I Go To Sleep,’ while ‘I Come And Stand At Every Door’ is as lurid in its Celtic humanity as it is bucolic in its ghastly programmed inflexibility.

Moreover, Caroline Crawley’s singing on both ‘The Lacemaker’ and ‘Mr. Somewhere,’ is pure honey drenched wonderment. The same applies to Deirdre Rutkowski’s singing on ‘With Tomorrow’ and ‘Dreams Are Like Water.’ Along with the sparse sadness of The Rain Parade’s ‘Carolyn’s Song,’ Blood makes for an excellent roller coaster ride through the trappings and everyday turmoil of unrelenting love.

The fourth CD consists of 21 songs recorded by the original artists, which makes for interesting listening to say the least – even if only to hear David Byrne’s neurotica psychosis on the Talking Heads’ 1979 recording of ‘Drugs.’

Elegantly packaged, This Mortal Box is naked, sincere, tempestuous, proud, poetic, brave and essential. A bit like love itself really.