The Week That Was - 'The Week That Was' (Memphis Industries) Released 18/08/08

First things first, Field Music have not split up. Well, not officially at least, but the trio are keen to point out that the band is simply the by product of their existence and not the other way around. In order to keep their creative juices flowing, they’re simply exploring individual side-projects, which just happen to involve each other. Following in the footsteps of brother David, ‘The Week That Was’ is Peter’s shot at writing, producing and engineering his debut solo album and despite clocking in at just over thirty minutes, its huge and beyond the g.php of ‘conventional’ indie music.

Having been in the pipeline for the past two year’s it’s a massive undertaking and one that explores the idea of media misinformation revolving around a fictional crime thriller. Like all great crimes, the album is meticulously premeditated and its ingenuity beyond reasonable doubt. However, it’s a story of varying perspectives and snapshots of musical questioning and concerns which ultimately render the motive irrelevant. Kicking off with the dominant drums and snatched cuts of guitar, menacing bass-piano partnership and precise vocals, ‘Learn To Learn’ is the beginning of the drama which rapidly unfolds with the crashing choruses of ‘The Good Life’. There’s an immense cinematic grandeur throughout but the first real taste comes in the form of ‘The Story Waits For No One’ and its 2am night flight piano which is swiftly countered with the swirling time lapse ambience and overlaid vocals of ‘It’s All Gone Quiet’.

The contemplative thoughts set against the busy illusion of ‘The Airport Line’ is arguably the albums high point and the majestic strings in bloom exceptional. Brewis’ orchestrational understanding is caught somewhere between infectious natural history documentation and the production values of a West End musical, best demonstrated through the detailed colossus of ‘Yesterday’s Paper’ and its conflicting alibis, opinions and expanding Chinese whispers. The beautifully lonely inherent sadness of ‘Come Home’ and its spiralling strings runs rings around a colliding collection of thoughts while always keeping its humble beginnings respectfully in mind. Unfortunately the thriller is put to rest far too quickly and the case closed fittingly almost as it starts with ‘Scratch The Surface’ and its psychological musings.

Not only does Brewis have an extensive musical vision, but his developmental storytelling ability, considered flow, well executed timing and attention to detail invites you to willingly immerse yourself in his multilayered world; in his own words, “The detail is in the difference”.

Cluedo eat your fucking heart out.