It feels like forever since Back to Hell, the second instalment in The Filthy Tongues dark trilogy exploring the gloomier, murkier aspects of Auld Reekie. The final instalment, In These Dark Places is a flawless ending to the remarkable triumvirate continuing the caliginous tales of the less salubrious side of life in the capital city, but ending with perhaps a chink of light, a certain element of positivity and hope of a rebirth shrouded in desperation and regret?
We’ve been through a rough few years since the last instalment, reflected on the album in singles Gas Mask Blues and Pandemic Pete, both of which display an element of dark humour, which I’m sure we all can relate to in surviving the days of lockdown that felt like aeons, as we all found our own coping mechanisms in getting through. The sinister driving behemoth that is Gas Mask Blues bemoaning in an almost vengeful manner the inability to go anywhere much, outwith the essentials. Pandemic Pete picks up the baton, Metcalfe suggesting that if this was to be the apocalypse or the end of days that he’d have wanted something altogether more dramatic but “all I get is morons and Pandemic fucking Pete”…
This chapter of the trilogy is very much an album of two halves, initially side one continuing to wallow in pernicious and ruinous behaviours and excesses with the album kicking off with a suitably roguish malevolence in the form of the anarchic Tricky Nicky, Metcalfe delivering the menacing vocal in an almost threatening vindictive manner.
One of the highlights of the album is the soaraway epic that is Hang My Head, while the lyrics seem to begin to see the character in the songs change his ways “I don’t wanna let you down, I don’t want you to feel betrayed”, he is still resolute “I hang me head, but not in shame, …I’m not playing the game”. The band gel as one immaculate unit in this absolute behemoth of a tune. Together they create an immense sound that would fill the largest of rooms before Nightwalker brings the pace down again a melody that evokes images of dank dingy streets in heavy rain, the understated keyboards channelling Ray Manzareck before the song ends in a crescendo of distorted electronica.
Side two feels like the start of a re-awakening, a series of songs that signal a change in thought processes, a sense of regret is palpable and indicates the first uneasy steps towards repentance. The title track of the album has the protagonist (or should that be antagonist) wallowing in jail “I woke up crying in a police cell” and thinking of his past “did I make it with that funny little fucker in the boys room, please tell me no” to a soundtrack that initially sounds like a fairground carnival, bringing images of old fashioned carousels to mind, ultimately sitting somewhere between The Stranglers, Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, The Walker Brothers and Jacques Brel.
A pulsating background throb introduces the subtle yet frenetic energy of It’s Gonna Wash, the unremitting background rhythm and hushed vocals creating a somehow understated sense of urgency. Metcalfe’s character lists all the things he wants to see the back of “the drinking is gone”, “the womanising is gone” as the Blue Nile-esque keyboards are layered with a glorious melange of instruments to reach a thundering crescendo. Here Comes the Wave initially has a feeling of desolation, as if all the looking back and self reflection is for nothing, that nothing will change “all the badness is a disease… there is no solution”, before the song bursts into life with some Stooges influenced riffing and some melodies and lines that recall The The, as the determination not to go back to old ways comes to the fore in what feels like a forceful and very personal call to arms. There are two ways this could go…
What comes next is a song of great power, with an elegance that portrays both sadness and beauty. I don’t think there could be a more impeccable ending for the triptych, with In These Dark Places ending on an uncertain teetering precipice with the gloriously effervescent Kingdom of Gold, its trepidatious ebullience seemingly indicating an element of sadness and regret, but is it also a sign of rebirth? A ringing out of the old ways and the promise of a new more assured future for the protagonist? “I’d die for one more chance to try it all again” Is this really the end (“I offer my bloody wrists”), or is this a new beginning? An emotional rollercoaster for sure.
In These Dark Place is utterly beguiling and a more that fitting final chapter to sit shoulder to shoulder with Jacob’s Ladder and Back to Hell. But is it then end? They say all good things must come to an end, but In These Dark Places leaves you with that glimmer of hope, that cliff-hanger that leaves a suggestion of more to come.
The Filthy Tongues play Oran Mor on 24th January 2023 with support from The Hedrons and The Countess of Fife.
The Filthy Tongues – Last Night from Glasgow
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