Slowdive - Everything Is Alive -2023- - Album A... Review

By [Author Name]

Everything Is Alive arrives six years after their return. In that time, the band endured the COVID-19 pandemic, personal tragedies, and the relentless passage of time. Vocalist/guitarist Rachel Goswell notes that the album’s title reflects a Buddhist-like acceptance of fragility. “Everything is alive” isn’t a statement of triumphant vitality; it’s a quiet observation that life persists through ruin, decay, and silence. The album clocks in at a lean 42 minutes—eight tracks that function less as individual radio singles and more as movements in a single, continuous dream. 1. shanty The album opens with what sounds like a submerged heartbeat. A slow, lurching bassline from Nick Chaplin anchors the track while Neil Halstead’s whispered vocal drifts in and out of focus. Guitars shimmer like light through deep water. “shanty” is a mission statement: this is not music for the impatient. It builds slowly, not to a crescendo, but to a gentle wash of color. It feels like waking up underwater. 2. prayer remembered The first wave of proper reverb crashes here. Rachel Goswell takes the lead vocal, and her voice has never sounded more ethereal. The drum pattern (courtesy of Simon Scott, who rejoined in 2010) is a simple, hypnotic pulse. Lyrically, it touches on memory and loss—specifically the passing of Goswell’s mother and Halstead’s father during the pandemic years. “Prayer remembered” turns grief into lacework: delicate, fragile, but structurally sound. 3. alife This is the closest the album gets to a “single.” Driven by a motorik, krautrock-inspired beat reminiscent of Neu! or early Kraftwerk, “alife” is surprisingly danceable—if you define dancing as swaying in a dark room at 2 AM. The guitar melody is infectious, a two-note hook that burrows into your brain. Halstead sings, “It’s alright to be alone,” turning a lonely sentiment into a communal anthem. 4. andalucia plays An instrumental interlude that acts as the album’s centerpiece. Named for a Spanish region known for flamenco and heat, the track is surprisingly cold and electronic. Distorted piano loops and processed guitar feedback create a sense of vertigo. At 1:48, it’s over too soon, acting as a palate cleanser before the album’s emotional core. 5. kisses The lead single. “kisses” is unmistakably Slowdive, yet entirely fresh. A slap-back delay guitar riff introduces a vocal melody that is heartbreakingly direct. The production (handled by the band with mixing by Shawn Everett) is crystal clear—you can hear the air in the room, the fret noise, the breath before the chorus. It’s a love song to the mundane: “All the little kisses / When you come home.” In a world of grand gestures, Slowdive finds poetry in domestic intimacy. 6. skin in the game The tension ramps up here. Driving bass and a rare aggressive guitar attack push the song forward. Lyrically, it’s about risk, vulnerability, and the terror of commitment. Halstead’s vocals strain against the mix, buried just enough to feel desperate. The middle eight features a guitar solo that isn’t flashy but feels like a scream into a void. 7. chained to a cloud The quietest moment on the record. Acoustic guitar (a rarity for Slowdive) and a distant synthesizer pad create a lullaby for the disillusioned. The lyrics are surreal: “I dreamt I was a satellite / Chained to a cloud.” It’s a meditation on freedom versus responsibility. Simon Scott’s drumming is almost non-existent here, replaced by digital glitches and static crackle. It’s Pygmalion ’s ghost haunting the present. 8. the slab The closing track. At nearly 7 minutes, it is the album’s epic. It begins with a single, distorted piano chord that rings out for ten seconds. Then, layers of guitar feedback build like a storm front. There are no conventional vocals for the first three minutes—just wordless moans and treated noise. When Halstead finally sings, it’s a mantra: “Everything is alive / Everything is dead.” The band slowly disintegrates into white noise and a single, repeating synth note. The album doesn’t end so much as dissolve into the ether. It’s a stunning, brave conclusion. Production and Sonic Texture Everything Is Alive was recorded at The Courtyard Studio in Oxfordshire and mixed by the legendary Shawn Everett (The War on Drugs, Alabama Shakes). While previous Slowdive records were swamped in glorious murk (the “wall of sound” approach), this album breathes. Slowdive - everything is alive -2023- - album a...

For fans who have been on board since the Reading halcyon days, this record is a confirmation. For new listeners, it is a gateway into a band that refuses to become a museum piece. is not just a title; it’s a mission statement. And right now, in the gray space between joy and sorrow, it is the most beautiful sound in the world. By [Author Name] Everything Is Alive arrives six

Then came the miracle of the internet. A new generation discovered Souvlaki . The “shoegaze” revival of the late 2000s/early 2010s turned Slowdive from punchlines into prophets. By the time they reformed in 2014, they were bona fide legends. “Everything is alive” isn’t a statement of triumphant

When the Reading shoegaze pioneers released their self-titled comeback album in 2017 after a 22-year hiatus, it felt like a miracle. It was a record that didn’t just resurrect their dream-pop sound; it matured it, swapping youthful reverb-drenched angst for a more weathered, melancholic beauty. Six years later, they return with their fifth studio album, (2023).

Everett’s mix is three-dimensional. You can pinpoint the location of every guitar string, every pedal click, every inhale between phrases. The bass frequencies are particularly rich—helping tracks like “alife” and “skin in the game” hit with physical force, not just emotional weight.

Introduction: The Luxury of No Longer Having to Prove Anything In the landscape of modern music, the word “reunion” often carries the bitter aftertaste of a cash grab. Bands reform, tour the greatest hits, and occasionally attempt a lackluster comeback album that tarnishes a legacy. But every so often, an act returns not to relive past glories, but to genuinely expand upon them. Slowdive is that rarefied beast.