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Shades of dark

The-Twilight-Sad-No-One-Can-Ever-Know

No One Can Ever Know

The Twilight Sad

Release Date: Feb 07, 12

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Acclaimed Scottish indie rockers The Twilight Sad release their third full length album, No One Can Ever Know, on Fat Cat Record and it’s their second without founding bassist Craig Orzel. Following up on 2010’s The Wrong Car, the band continues to expand their dark, layered sound.

Because a band is properly labeled as having a dark sound, it doesn’t necessarily mean they’re droning and boring (except maybe to those who don’t like dark music). On their third LP No One Can Ever Know, The Twilight Sad further evolves their darkness with a multi-faceted set of songs. This album is distinct in that much of it has a very soft feel. The texture of each track is a seamless journey from start to finish.

The first two songs tunnel into the listeners ears, strung along by James Graham’s voice. “Sick,” the third track, slows the tempo into sort of a puddle of sound drops. It is here where one can hear the four-dimensional effect. “Don’t Move” takes us to another place as it purely rocks, though not straying completely from the overall tone. It may not make you dance, but it will move heads.

The only obvious flaw is the way The Twilight Sad ends the songs on this album. It’s not the endings are abrupt, more so it feels as if the curtain flaps open on them and all the tricks can be seen backstage for only just a moment.

“Nil” finds Graham’s Scottish accent really grinds out over the music. It’s perhaps an organic instrumental effect in a sense. It’d be interesting to know if this happens naturally or intentionally. The way his voice lunges over the wave of guitar is very powerful, emotion stirring.

The remainder of the songs swing back and forth into each other with a friction that doesn’t distract as much as distinguish the songs from each other. And not because they sound alike, yet, it’s just easy to get lost in them. For instance, the final track, “Kill It In The Morning” separates itself firmly with a spooky “flying saucers at night” feel and ends with nothing but that muddy Scottish voice over no music. It’s the best song to end the album with. It slows, it drifts into peaks, giving No One Can Ever Know a heartbeat and a breath.