All Highway Child Need is Love
With the early fuzz tone of the guitar and the insistent rhythm, it’s uncanny how much “In the End” from Highway Child’s second album through Elektrohasch Schallplatten, Sanctuary Come, sounds like “Hey Bulldog” from The Beatles’ Yellow Submarine. With the McCartneyist piano bounce (transposed onto an organ, interestingly) of the memorable “When the Sun Burned the Ground” following immediately, the record very quickly becomes a mystery tour of the most magical variety, offering moments of Lennon, McCartney and Lennon/McCartney as filtered through retro tones and psychedelic tropes that, while sounding vintage, are actually modern innovations to the genre.
“When the Sun Burned the Ground” might be the highlight of Sanctuary Come, but even if it is, it’s only because of the function it serves in the side one medley of songs. Opener “Red, White and Blue” (gone before you know it, so smoothly does it lead into the next song), “In the End,” “When the Sun Burned the Ground” and the title track take the Abbey Road approach and bleed into one another while at the same time introducing vastly different musical ideas. The title track takes the hopping piano notes already used and puts them atop a droning fuzz riff with swirling noises to accompany. Only the silence that follows “Sanctuary Come” lets you know you’re into another phase of the record.
All well and good, but it’s worth noting how much of a departure it is for the Danish four-piece. Last year’s On the Old Kings Road debut felt more garage rock and less lush than many of these tracks, and was playful in a less mature or sophisticated way. The songwriting on that album was good, but Sanctuary Come feels put together on a different level entirely. Not only is the band worrying about guitar, bass and drums, but organs, guest spots from the likes of Lorenzo Woodrose (he shows up on “Turn Me On”) and other dashes here and there of Sgt. Pepper to throw into the mix. “Once is Once too Much,” the first song after the medley ends, takes a Lennon-solo feel and works it into their already established frame of psych. Vocalist Patrick Heinsøe, for what it’s worth, does a more than respectable job adapting to the demands of the song.
“Turn Me On” works back in some of the garage style of the first record, but the bass line of Christian Norup and the feel in Paw Eriksen’s guitar is still that of the late-‘60s. The only difference is, where those artists were both tripping balls and exploring uncharted territory in rock, Highway Child do it with the utmost confidence and the self-assuredness of songwriters who know exactly where they’re headed. They may also be tripping balls. It’s hard to say, but in any case, when the sweet, “Oh Yoko” acoustics of “Dear Girl” come on, drummer Andreas Henriksen being given the song off, there’s no mystery in either what they’re doing or whether or not it’s an accident. It’s not.
And on that level, Sanctuary Come is precisely that: musical sanctuary. If you’re any kind of Beatles fan or a fan of early psych rock in general, you can probably guess where these songs are going before they get there, which gives them an instant familiarity, but since it’s not just another gem you found in the used bin of some dingy basement shop, it’s exciting. It’s new, and somehow it keeps a freshness despite itself. “You You You” and “Take You Down,” together comprising almost six minutes of audio, are quick and enjoyable while they last, with acid rock chicanery on offer and the occasional delve into the supremely confident style of the debut. Closer “Born on the Run” is well placed: a suitably melancholic acoustic piece that adds even more character and personality to a collection of songs that was by no means lacking for it, soundchecking “Blackbird” from The White Album on its way out the door.
The growth the band has undergone speaks for itself after listening, and it’s a growth that has proven utterly painless. Not one moment of Sanctuary Come feels awkward, and even at its most derivative, Highway Child makes sure the album has an identity of its own. I can’t imagine it’s what anyone thought Highway Child were going to be doing on their second album in two years, but maybe we just weren’t paying enough attention.
Tags: Denmark, Elektrohasch, Highway Child
