𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 – this week: Chemistry – Lunar Plexus

Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙮 – 𝙇𝙪𝙣𝙖𝙧 𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙭𝙪𝙨

Charles concocts a solution…

I was just thinking back to those ridiculous days of the pandemic. All of six years ago. In one way, it seems pretty recent. In another way it seems like an age ago. But also, in yet another way, it seems as though it never really happened. It was all so absurd, like the plot of a film that just went too far. The kind of film that gets panned by every reputable media source for being ridiculously unrealistic. You remember the queues, the masks, the two-metre/six-foot gap between one person and the next. Not being allowed to go to work. Not being allowed to leave your own home for more than half an hour for fear of being arrested for taking a walk in the park; as if fresh air was going to kill us or we were going to infect others, despite not being anywhere near others. Our eyes glued to screens, big and small. Big, so we could immerse ourselves in the new way of conversing: Zoom; and so we could get our hourly fix of the latest victims on a graph: all in rising numbers. Morbid! And small, so we could curl up with our latest mindless addiction: TikTok. And yet, time neither ticked, nor tocked. It stood still. Was this to last forever? Was this our new life? Forget the Brave New World. This was the Cowardly New World… But there was one thing on everyone’s lips at the time; those lips we saw only in pixel form. The Science. Every news broadcast had to mention “The Science”. I never quite understood why the “The” had to come into play, and why it was all condensed and concentrated into this over-simplification, but we were all hanging on this one meaningless term: The Science. We waited eagerly in anticipation for this lauded vaccine like it was the elixir of life.

Eventually it came. We all had these minor stab wounds because we had to. And within six months, most of us never had another. So technically, it is currently exactly like it was back then. The virus still being around, and people still being affected. The difference being, no one cares anymore. So I’m guessing it wasn’t quite the Black Plague they led us to believe. But “The Science” still lives on. Because The Science is vital to us all. The Science is what makes the world go around. And it is in EVERYthing. The Biology makes me think of hearts, veins, bones and school. The Physics makes me think of gravity, angles, electricity and school. The Chemistry makes me think of test-tubes, purple liquid, explosions and school. So what do these all have in common? School. And what was I mainly thinking about at school? Girls. Instant infatuation at every turn. Except that it was a boys’ school – brilliant. We speak of these feelings as being of the heart and of the soul, but a scientist will crush those romanticisms with talk of The Science. “It’s just The Chemistry”, they say. The idea of two people being attracted to one another; we say “it’s The Chemistry”. Actually, we say “it’s chemistry”. We don’t ever use “The”, so let’s finally drop that. “We’ve got chemistry” – a delightful phrase. A connection of sorts. The thing is, a chemistry experiment can go wrong. We’ve all been there when our face is covered in powder blue and our cuffs are sopping wet with a yellow that looks regrettably familiar. So why is chemistry seen as infallible perfection when it can so easily go wrong…?

It looks like we have yet again over-simplified the whole thing. Chemistry in love can be a machine-woven symmetry. But should it go awry, it can be a car-crash. If everything is going well in your relationship, it’s true chemistry, and it’s still bubbling away like a slow-cooking stew. If things are going less well, try to remember the chemistry that brought you both together. Chemicals don’t simply disappear. It’s just not scientific! I like to think of this particular concoction as dormant; not dead. But it does still need reviving. So choose your favourite pipette and get experimenting. Un soupçon de this; un soupçon de that: et voilà. Sorry, I was in France last week – oh là là. The reason I’m saying all this is because while I had the most beautiful time around Valentine’s Day, I’m aware that not everyone is in the same gondola (not French, but romantic nevertheless). There are of course the singletons, and I can’t do anything for them (apologies). But then there are the couples who are tethered by a singular frayed thread. And that upsets me. Because I believe that if it once did work, then it can still work, and can indeed continue to work. Call me a naive dreamer, but I believe in a thing called love.

And I’m not the only one who feels this. One particular Devonian duo has recently released a love song with a difference. Please welcome Lunar Plexus with their latest single, ‘Chemistry’! This UK twosome consists of John Saddler and Reuben Ayres. At least, this is how it has always been with them in the past, so I am assuming nothing has changed. John is the principal songwriter and so takes singing duties. Guitars, keyboards and production are shared between the two of them, while Reuben shows off his skills on drums, bass, recording and mixing. What a satisfying delegation. On ‘Chemistry’, they go right back to “that initial spark” – you all know that linking feeling just before any relationship begins. That realisation. It’s more than a one-way fancy; it’s a two-way thrill. And if you DON’T know what I’m talking about then you must be dead or still in nappies. Now, let me start by saying, any song that has the line “We’d make a groovy pair”, wouldn’t usually fill me with a cocky confidence akin to the swagger of Liam Gallagher… Especially when sung by a middle-aged Englishman. But then again, not all songs need to be “cool” in the usual conventional way. Some songs are made to simply enjoy. To put a smile on one’s face. And this is one of those. Instantly, I am smiling. There is a knowing fondness and familiarity throughout the entirety of the song. Besides, there’s little worse than fake coolness. It instantly makes me think of Stephen Fry wearing a baseball cap. And no, such a photo does not exist – because some things are just not meant to be. It is much better to simply be one’s own genuine groovy self. The Carpenters have never been remotely cool. And yet, they are one of the most successful bands of all time. Let’s get back to ‘Chemistry’; we’ve only just begun…

Wordily speaking, the song’s meaning is nice and simple. There’s no clever metaphor involving lab experiments. No combustion referring to the BOOM of the heart. And no chemical anomaly suggesting love’s hidden secrets. ‘Chemistry’ has simplicity at its core, giving it strength and integrity: a stable solution. The confident volatility lies in the brazen music itself. This is pop rock, but melodious pop rock. There’s a 60s/70s vibe to the whole thang. Everything is solid, pleasing, rounded, warm and weirdly “cool”. Just maybe only cool to a certain demographic. Electronic junkies and rap fiends will probably not go for this so much. There’s no mega kick to blow your head off, no distorted bass to make your heart sizzle, There’s no ultra-wide synth with enough high-end to make you wonder if you had a connection with Vincent van Gogh – a certain kind of chemistry. But also, neither is there any orchestral element to the song. No scintillating strings, no triumphant horns, no delicate woodwind. Alors, so why point out what it DOESN’T have…? Well, because the majority of popular music from the last 70 years has not had any of these extras. It has just been a band. A normal band. By normal, I mean guitars, bass, OWgan/keyboard, drums, and of course, singing. Because what really sticks in your head is a melody, backed by familiar sounds.

So, here’s what we DO have. We have an unmistakable sound reminiscent of The Rolling Stones (the guitar riff), the groove and lightheartedness of The Kinks, the Englishness of Pink Floyd, and the musicality of The Who. The song begins with an OWgan (potentially with a backing of harpsichord for plucked brilliance); it’s an unresolved chord, stabbed lightly but repeatedly like the needle of a syringe; the vaccine administered by someone who doesn’t normally do this sort of thing. It’s full of “something’s coming and it’s going to be good”. After four rounds, a plucked electric guitar forces a change of key in reinforcement. A muted trumpet gets jealous and starts to join in the fun. And all the while, anticipation is building… Drums and guitars hit the stage as the lighting engineer removes the shielding plates from the bright lamps. This is the exact moment the audience starts to whoop and shuffle, not knowing what to do with their arms – so they flail about, as if boneless. The bass is deep, connecting with the crowd. Finally, John grabs the mic: “There was a spark in the air, on the day I met you” – his voice is honest, full, bright, and familiar like family. I can feel their audience mouthing along (too shy to actually sing). Although those drums are simple, the drums and cymbals themselves (not to mention the mixing) are absolutely perfect for the song. So utterly live without being over-processed. Chorus time… Big key change, complete with gorgeous, wide backing vocals. They “Ah” their hearts out! “Ah”s should never be half-hearted. And then the final refrain of this chorus, more backing vocals join the lead for “Can’t you see” (very reminiscent of The Who’s second album), before John comes back with “We’ve got chemistry”! The following section brings back the memory of the intro OWgan, and I am absolutely SURE I hear a little mistaken drumstick click. Thank the lord they left it in there. It’s these little things that subconsciously make you feel the live presence of the whole recording. After one more rousing round of verse and chorus, we do NOT have the mandatory guitar solo with its usual high bends where we can genuinely hear the guitarist’s frustration that they didn’t pick a lighter gauge string. Instead we have a refreshingly unexpected mandolin solo! And it’s superbly written. Yes, actually written. Like a George Harrison solo. A small musical piece within a larger musical piece. Not just mindless widdly piddle. But I think what makes this solo so different is the sound. It is very compressed and upfront – the mandolin is usually used as an accompanying instrument. Some clever-clogs will probably let me know in the comments that this is in fact not a mandolin. I don’t mind. The final 40 seconds is simply glorious chorus.

And so you see, science or no science, we’ve always got love. Even those who don’t realise it.

Speaking of “The Science”, will we ever find a way to stop it raining?? Il pleut. Zut alors.

Listen to 𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙮 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙮 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙮 on YouTube HERE!

Follow 𝙇𝙪𝙣𝙖𝙧 𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙭𝙪𝙨 on Instagram HERE!

Follow 𝙇𝙪𝙣𝙖𝙧 𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙭𝙪𝙨 on TwiX HERE!

Please share this post and let me know your thoughts in the comments below