Dip into iLIKETRAiNs' modus operandi and one risks drowning in affectation. There's that name, for starters. Then there's the band's habit of writing songs based on historical figures and events-- pick-me-ups like the Fire of London, witch trials, the Black Death, and Spencer Perceval, the only British Prime Minister ever assassinated. The group performs them in front of scratchy old projected films (you know, like a live soundtrack). And they used to dress in British Rail uniforms, too (now it's black armband-adorned mourning attire, not unlike Arcade Fire as currently costumed).
But you can't listen to a light show, and gimmicks don't mean a thing if the music doesn't move you. To their credit, the Leeds group owns up to the debt it owes such acts as Sigur Rós and Godspeed You! Black Emperor. But unlike the latter, the group has vocals, and unlike the former, those vocals are in English. And proudly so, too, as the group takes its listeners on a trip down the dreary, shadowy back alleys of British history. The disc even comes with a collection of historical essays.
To say, then, that the group's promising full-length debut Elegies to Lessons Learnt is steeped in melodrama is a bit like accusing Nick Cave at this late date of Old Testament overkill. "We All Fall Dawn", the first track on Elegies, is indeed heavily indebted to the Bad Seeds as well as the aforementioned compatriots, and truth be told if the song hooks you off the bat you're probably golden for the disc's duration. Bristle the littlest bit at the portentous bombast, however, and the rest of the disc will likely wear you down like endless freight cars clattering down the tracks.
The best approach is to actually take the apparent humorlessness of iLiKETRAiNS as a sign of a sense of humor. You have to have at least the tiniest inkling of 21st century irony to appreciate David Martin's Grand Guignol delivery as the gloomy dirge "Twenty Five Sins" builds to a bleak eulogy for a city in flames, or "Spencer Perceval" plods through nearly ten minutes of rousing intensity. It's all quite incredible, in every sense.
There is an unfortunate redundancy to the disc, though, as each epic's pounding percussion and oddly predictable dynamics begin to blur. As awesome and awesomely imposing as songs such as "The Deception", "Death of an Idealist", and "The Voice of Reason" may be, there are only so many times you can hear a track lead to the same massive orchestral crescendo before the music comes dangerously close to formula. Overkill may be the name of the game, but the weight of subject and execution is often suffocating.
And that's ultimately where the disc lets you down. Despite its intricately considered aesthetic and artfully arranged songs, Elegies lacks both the grace of Sigur Rós and the pure menace of Godspeed. It's cinematic, to be sure, but those same carefully delineated and very specific subjects rob the music of some of its mystery, putting a damper on any sense of discovery or adventure. No question, Elegies to Lessons Learnt is an undeniably effective 50-minute ride, but it's also rather coldly mapped out. Tales of doomed persons and disastrous events drawn from the horrific annals of history, you know where all these songs are going before they've even left the station.
