Something To Do – The Amber Bugs (reviewed by Dave Franklin)

You occasionally come across artists who use their creativity, be it painting, dance, poetry or music, to try and explore and examine the meaning of life and then convey it through their chosen medium to us, the audience. It may seem like a worthy thing to do, but more often than not, the result is pompous poetry or pretentious prog rock or the work of art that looks like it should be stuck on the fridge with the decorative magnet you bought in the gift shop at Longleat Safari Park.

Second only to Douglas Adams’s masterful idea that the meaning of life (the universe and everything) was actually 42, is The Amber Bugs take on things. Their new one basically says that whatever comes at the end of this life might be a topic of much debate, but it is also inevitable. That being so, all you have is a limited and ever-shortening time span in which to find Something To Do. It’s that simple.

Actually, it isn’t that simple, as such an understanding poses more questions that it answers. Questions such as, should we just try not to think about it and just enjoy the time we have by running blindly into oblivion in true hedonistic style? Should we dwell on the almost impossible combination of chances and co-incidences that have put us here today in this exact time and place, and indeed, species at the risk of being over-burdened by the weight of responsibility that such a thought process leads to? Or should we find Something to Do, something that makes us happy and hopefully makes others around us happy too and use that to live a fulfilling life? It is this latter path that The Amber Bugs advocate.

And the song itself is a self-fulfilling prophecy. Making music makes The Bugs happy, and, in turn, their songs make me happy, too. In the case of this new one, it is the spaciousness of the opening bars, the gradual build of harmonies, the constant addition of tones and textures, pace and sonic weight that pushes it on an upward trajectory. But not towards an anthemic payoff, more because the song alights on the gentle and emotive soundscapes that the likes of Damien Rice and Lisa Hannigan used to frequent. I love the mournful brass that joins the understated throng (is there such a thing?), I love the  intertwined feeling of hope and pathos and I love the lyrics.

The song is almost zen in its simplicity: Do what makes you happy—truly happy, content, fulfilled, and useful. And remember, as Buddha himself once said, “It is better to travel well than it is to arrive.” But I guess that he never had to travel on Great Western trains on a bank holiday weekend!