If, like me, you first encountered Cori Elliott playing weaponised bass and kicking ass as the focal point of The Vim Dicta, then Too Far Gone might come as a bit of a surprise. Then again, perhaps not. They were always a band who knew how to work with drama and dynamics, build atmosphere and express emotion, the difference is that they did it with a broader, brasher, rock ’n’ roll sonic pallet.
Those things are all present in Too Far Gone, it’s just that now Cori does it in an understated and restrained, much more subtle and wonderfully supple sort of way. There are times when the song is barely present, in danger of floating off in a gentle shimmer of piano notes or linger atmospheric pauses, only to be pulled back by her soft and sensual vocal.
Visually it feels like a photo album, a series of snapshots of times past and present, a personal document of the good, the bad and perhaps the questionable. And musically it is a reflective and soulful sonic slice which rises from floating and ethereal pop balladry into more solid, chiming ambient-indie soundscapes, only to resolve in the quiet reflections that it began in.
Its gorgeous and graceful tones might seem far removed from the darker rock ’n’ roll of her previous musical vehicle, but look beyond such obvious trappings and you realise that things are not as different as you might think.