The video for Comet, the first single off Cocoon’s UK debut Where The Oceans End, contains what is essentially a white, fluffy, flying, clockwork whale. Uh huh. Yep. A whale. A white and fluffy whale. Stuff of fairytales, huh? Well that, it seems, is the point. Oceans End is a concept album based around the idea of a whale joining the band, with each song designed to be representative of another part of their journey. This may sound slightly baffling but, of course, I’m not here to judge the band’s (admittedly bizarre) creative sources - only the resulting production.
The thing is, though, that the band’s source of inspiration is rife in their music. Oceans End, I should warn you, is an unapologetically youthful record - with song titles like Mother, Yum Yum, In My Boat, Baby Seal and Baby Tiger it would be obvious even to that rare creature, the deaf music aficionado, that Cocoon are perfectly satisfied with their innocently juvenile approach to making music.
Don’t, however, let this put you off of listening to the record. Oceans End is a beautiful album, perfectly poised around the harmony between Daumail and Imbeau’s delicate vocals. The guitar and piano intertwine effortlessly, presenting us with an uplifting progression of fairytale fanfare. There is a subtle counterpoint between the merrily rollicking tunes like Dee Doo and Dolphins, and the softer, pensive likes of In My Boat and Cathedral. However, there is undoubtedly a consistently magical atmosphere pervading every song - it’s crafted by the slight accent of the singers, the effortless harmony, the gentle chime of piano and the patter of the drums. This is an album of mysticism and momentum - a monumental journey has been recorded in these fourteen songs, and there is something wonderful about listening with that knowledge in your mind.
Music, if anything, is a fine example of an art where juvenile productions are slated without reservation - immaturity seems to be considered synonymous with lack of sophistication - and there is an inherent snobbishness with which critics address albums that exhibit any sign of even reminiscently childish tendencies. Maybe, though, it’s time to leave such preconceptions behind when you listen to Cocoon. Some may argue with me, and maybe Where The Oceans End is fantastical, ecstatic and emphatic. Maybe it is childish and chimerical. But I can tell you the child in you will love it.
