The Balloonist ~ A Quiet Day

Many people yearn for a quiet day, imagining that they might spend such a day languishing in the yard, reading on a comfortable couch, perhaps taking a walk by the stream.  But to a younger person, such days are to be avoided; they can seem sprawling, never-ending, interminable.  As the evocative press release  puts it, “The silence is broken by daytime TV, school programmes and the odd afternoon cartoon. Daydreams occur against a backdrop of suburban stillness, broken by woodpigeon echoes and swaying trees. Formica table tops, frosted glass panels, traces of 70s décor, wood effect gas fireplaces and the dust motes floating in the afternoon sun.”  This was the childhood of “80s child” Ben Holton (The Balloonist), best known for his work in epic45.  (As a reminder, January’s LP You’ll Only See Us When The Light Has Gone and its remix companion album A Beacon of Light are still fresh as well!)

The precipitation of “Midweek Rain”  is only fitting, as a child on a rainy day is a child in need of entertainment, bringing to mind John Berryman’s “Dream Song 14” ~ “I conclude now I have no inner resources, because I am heavy bored.”  A rainy day is certainly not a day for a balloonist.  And yet somehow children manage to survive these times, sometimes because their parents give them chores and other times because they discover small distractions and even immersions.  We imagine young Ben on his keyboard, messing around until happening upon a particular melody.  The bucolic nature of A Quiet Day reflects this eventual contentment.

Many difficulties unfolded between Holton’s childhood and his work as Birds in the Brickwork, a moniker that honors life’s tiny pleasures.  His inner resources developed to a point in which they became the lead story; a quiet day is now a good day.  This sense of inner peace floats throughout the set.  A TV plays throughout “Waiting,” bringing to mind its place on Pink Floyd’s The Wall, but without the sinister undercurrent.  “The Quiet Room” contains a steady heartbeat of a drum while the guitar explores the walls, the ceiling and the floors.  A fascination with texture and pattern is apparent in babies, lost in teenagers, often rediscovered by adults.  In the moment of suspension, waiting is endured; in retrospect, these innocent interludes become time capsules.

33 years have passed since Nirvana sang, Here we are now; entertain us.  (Apologies if that makes you feel old!)  Nirvana babies are now adults.  In the early going, Holton isn’t seeking to entertain as much as he is to excavate.  But the closing triptych moves ever so gently to form and resolution, beginning with the shoegazey “Clouds.”  Shoegaze’s heyday arrived during Holton’s youth, and the genre’s tendrils stretch across every one of Holton’s sonic snapshots.  “A Heart Full of Possibilities” is bright-minded:  look, I found something to do!  The track demonstrates the difference between a child regarding a quiet day and an adult regarding a child regarding the same day.  The conditions may be different, but the goal is the same, the balloon above the horizon represents transcendence over boredom, over setbacks, over tragedy.  And this is how the album ends: “Above the Town” on a quiet, yet valuable day.  (Richard Allen)