With the recent release of their thirteenth studio album, have been around for long enough for reviews to begin with discussing their longevity. This however, is to be no exception as with the release of ‘Do Not Dare To Dream’, the Scottish stalwarts have crafted an output that bares the hallmark of their seamless melodicism, which has underpinned their discography for the best part of four decades.
Since their debut ‘A Catholic Education’ was released in 1990, the Fannies have garnered a reputation for wistful harmonies and instrumentation that can flit between rock and breezy outros in an instance. With original members Norman Blake and Raymond McGinley still at the helm, ‘Do Not Dare To Dream’ sees the band suitably indulge in nostalgic and incisive sentiments, but without the side effect of stuffiness.
Opening with the positively radiant There Was You, the album immediately embarks on a bright waltz, detailing the feeling of eventually finding your way to another. The track is dappled with interlocking harmonies and courting guitars, culminating in a sensibility which mirrors Blake’s own developments. Of the release, the singer-songwriter stated he “is in a much better place now in terms of happiness and wellbeing, and my songs on this album are really just a reflection of that…”
Such notions are only furthered by the almost medieval sounding ‘Over And Over. With Blake and McGinley’s harmonies bestowing a choral quality to the track, ‘Over and Over’ successfully bottles the magic of Great Bernera, the Scottish island which hosted the album’s recording. The ageless landscape – and the discovery of a Domus church organ – imprint the song with a sense of mysticism, buttressing the already impressive tapestry of instrumentation. With lilting declarations of ‘all of us / we’re gonna fall in love’, Fanclub appear to cast a spell of both hope and tenderness, set to the backdrop of increasingly chugging guitar.
Yet the album’s titular track sees Fanclub take a more despondent tone. ‘I Do Not Dare To Dream’ candidly describes how hopelessness can become habitual, but does so in such a way that it can bring reassurance. Quaintly artful lyrics – such as ‘woke up in the morning, but I stayed in bed past noon / I watched the sunlight fade, now I’m waiting for the moon’ – exhibit the band’s prowess for melodic musings.
‘Do Not Dare To Dream’ is the audible culmination of a tried and tested Fanclub recipe: richly layered arrangements that interact with a warm embrace, alongside lyricism that manages both timelessness and contemporariness. Yet by no means does this point to a formula that is approaching its sell-by-date, but rather ‘Do Not Dare To Dream’ is evidence of Fanclub’s ability to breathe new life into previously honed crafts. Perhaps this new life is what the band were emphasising all along, that listeners should in fact dare to dream.
7/10