If there's a single album I'm convinced holds the secrets to life woven throughout its soundscapes, its this one. With unmatched atmosphere and unmatched texture, somehow Talk Talk managed to make an album that is as cathartic as it is serene and sparse. My first instinct was to talk about how music this incomprehensible must have come from another dimension, but I don't think that's right. It almost feels like this came from somewhere in between; it's the musical equivalent of limbo. Passages tread the line between improvisation and composition. Explosions of sound come out of nowhere, causing earth shattering moments of emotional release.
To a new listener the quiet moments of this album might feel off-putting, as there are a lot of sections that feel like they don't quite go in the direction they should. Song structures are strange, choices of instrumentation are deterring, (I mean just listen to the solo in After the Flood, who would ever leave that in the final cut of that song, let alone have it last that long? It's genius. Seriously.) and tracks meander through near-improvisations while trying not to lose focus too much. It's obvious there's a lot of weirdness to point out, but in all of its strange moments the only thing that truly shines through is how genuinely beautiful Laughing Stock gets.
It may be hard to understand for some, and hard to fully digest for others, but Laughing Stock is one of the most rewarding and life-affirming pieces of music ever released to those who understand just how incredible it is. So, sit down and listen - and do truly listen - to Mark Hollis' mantra as told through these six songs. You may find yourself coming out of it with your perspective on life permanently altered. I know I did.