The title makes a strong first impression: Tomorrow in the battle think of me. While the first reference the Italian act makes is to soldiers, the second is to the “daily battle”, the struggle we each fight. This romantic sentiment is meant to assuage, to let the listener know that he or she is not alone. Whether in a personal or a spiritual sense, the words resonate. Tomorrow, when you are facing the terrible thing you fear – the breakup, the loneliness, the operation, the funeral, the firefight – think of me and remember that I am thinking of you; allow this small comfort to be part of your strength.
The music is a second expansion of these words, a means of conveying calm in the midst of turmoil. If music indeed hath charms to soothe the savage breast, this is its natural extension. The album is ambient, but active: the combination of guitar, sax and electronics defies inertia, sneaking a bit of bright motivation into the soothing melodic batter. The small moments in which one instrument takes center stage – for example, the closing seconds of “When we talk about ourselves” – provide evidence that the individual players are perfectly capable of taking over, but choose not to do so. Their intent is not to showcase their individual talents, but to operate together for a higher cause. It’s hard to imagine anyone not being encouraged by the fact that this album was made for those who need encouragement; it’s so confidently benign that even those who typically avoid ambient music might find themselves oddly lifted.
At its best, Tomorrow in the battle think of me conjures thoughts of mailboxes and telephone lines: symbols of nostalgic distance. A few small improvements might still be made; a bit more of the sax would have been welcome, and live drums would have been more effective than programmed pads. But when it all gels, as on the sublime and beatless “And this is the past year”, or on the title track, which contains guitar echoes of The Cure, the emotions grow engaged and the listener is caught in the updraft. As an album of encouragement, it works; the music is only sad long enough to let the listener know that it understands sadness. (Richard Allen)
a closer listen 