Copeland - Blushing
Blushing is, without a doubt, a beautiful record. It shimmers yes, but the luminescence it shows doesn’t quite resonate as deeply as it once did.
The musical trajectory of Copeland has been an interesting one. It seems to correlate directly to primary songwriter Aaron Marsh’s growing aversion to the guitar. As Copeland’s music has grown immensely since 2003’s Beneath Medicine Tree, the less and less Marsh relies on the dynamics of the guitar convey it. Blushing, the 6th studio album (and the second since their reformation in 2014) is almost a world away from their early material. Instead of the soaring guitars you found on early songs like “When Paula Sparks”, you get electronic arrangements and atmospherics that combine to form an aural representation of what Copeland sing about- love’s won, love’s lost, and the heartbreak in between.
Produced primarily by Marsh himself, Blushing is Copeland’s most complete record for sure. It’s composed, measured, grand and most of all, beautiful. It’s a beauty they have crafted since the beginning; even when they relied mostly on riffs instead of textured sounds, they’ve had this fondness for making beautiful music. Blushing is easily their most beautiful.
Yet its beauty also presents some of its problems. And perhaps these problems come about as a response more to personal tastes than a reflection of what Marsh and company do right or wrong. The right first of all; “Pope” mesmerises with its shimmering balance between layered sounds, Marsh’s night sky-esque vocals and scattering percussion work. The song is a perfect introduction to Blushing, painting the pained picture of the album. “Night Figures” is another album highlight, harkening back to the kind of song structures and styles found on In Motion and in shorter spots, Beneath Medicine Tree. It is the perfect blend of the many approaches to songwriting found on the album- using programming, synthesizers, orchestral accompaniments and pianos- to build towards the song’s crashing crescendo.
Songwriter Young Summer guests on “Skywriter”, and hand-in-hand with Marsh’s vocals, shows how Copeland’s music provides the perfect backdrop to incredibly pleasant vocals. And it seems as though Blushing is in a constant dream-like state, on purpose for sure. But it is this sound of floating that presents the album’s biggest drawback. It shimmers and sparkles, but in relying so heavily on production, it has cut out all the organic, jagged edges that presented themselves early in their careers. It’s ok to sharpen and refine, but the heartfelt authenticity of loss is harder to feel in Blushing’s programmed, synthesised landscape. While you felt the anguish in earlier songs like “No One Really Wins” and “California”, it’s harder to connect to some of the material on Blushing. Songs like “On Your Worst Day” tend to wane a little bit, clocking in at almost 6 minutes without really standing out. “Suddenly”, relying in more low-down grooves, slinky R&B vibes (saxophone!), becomes more background than anything else. Unfortunately much of the album feels like this way.
It sounds like I am less partial to this record because there are almost no guitars on it and not a lot of Beneath Medicine Tree sounding structures to it. In part, that’s true, but any Copeland fan will argue how much Marsh has grown as a songwriter. His music was never going to be trapped within the walls of guitar-oriented rock music and that’s perfectly ok. Blushing is, without a doubt, a beautiful record. It shimmers yes, but the luminescence it shows doesn’t quite resonate as deeply as it once did.