Ah, the good ship Church. An enduring anomaly. So ethereal in presence and rhyme, at times so rich and sublime. But also perfectly capable of leaving their devoted audience totally mystified.

This is a wonderful and complex recording, but it may not please some fans. Steve Kilbey, Marty Willson-Piper and co. released the quite superb and measured After Everything Now This in 2002 but this album is not cut from the same cloth. It contains more of a big rock sound, with an urgency not typical of Church productions.

While no one would begrudge any artist the opportunity to vary the style(s) of music they play, The Church excel creating atmospheric tomes. Their best-known work is full of imagery, metaphor and intricately woven melodies that seem to effortlessly transport the listener into an otherworldly realm.

This album doesn’t do that. It leans on the guitar pedal and crashes the cymbals. The drums thump all around. Some force replaces subtlety. It does work, as the songwriting is breathtaking, but it may leave part of their loyal following bemused.

Not withstanding this, every track reveals a catch worthy of another listen and there are many moments of magic. The opener, “Sealine”, is a minor classic, all mood and intensity with Kilbey’s trademark vocals breathing menace over a thumping pattern of heavy-duty strumming and big drums.

There’s some lovely Latin-flavoured guitar on “The Theatre And Its Double” and it features the kind of complex arrangement unheard of from so many other acts. Perhaps the highlight is “Telepath”, where harmonies melt and the wonderful interplay between guitarists’ Willson-Piper and Peter Koppes comes to the fore. Early days of The Church saw less emphasis on harmonising but, of late, it’s become a feature (and works again on the driving “Don’t You Fall”).

“Maya” is a whispered, melting gem, complete with some sweet violin, and reminiscent of some of the gorgeous ballads on After Everything Now This. Willson-Piper takes up vocal duties on the majestic “See Your Lights” and Koppes contributes a quite beautiful song called “Appalatia”. Like the very best Church etchings, it takes the listener on a soaring, uplifting journey.

Even though the characteristic aura of a Church album has been replaced, it would seem that there’s plenty of life left in this remarkable group. There’s been a rebirth of sorts and the output hasn’t diminished. I might still recommend past glories to introduce newbies to The Church, but those looking for rock with a twist should not wait to partake in this glorious and elaborate offering.

EJ Cartledge (Inpress Magazine, Australia, 2003)