The Coral – 388 review

When you’re in an established band, the margins of Britain can shrink. Sat on a tourbus your life mainly consists of gigs in the university cities, places that have a homogenous, franchised look and feel which rarely changes from one place to the next. For three members of The Coral, this perspective changed when they went on a low key jog round the provincial towns Morrissey once sang about; taking in spots where the high streets hadn’t been reshaped by the wrecking ball, an idea began to emerge.

That thought was to record another album when the consensus amongst the group’s members was that 2021’s Coral Island, then two years later the separate but related Sea Of Mirrors and Holy Joe’s Coral Island Medicine Show were enough to justify a hiatus. Importantly, as things unfolded it became apparent that there was no interest in following up any of those, but more to go back to the influences which subtly moulded their early years, grainy 45’s that brought rocksteady, ska, reggae and soul.

Recorded in Liverpool, 388 (Named after the vintage TASCAM tape machine used) features material laid down in a maximum of two or three takes, as live, with the mistakes left in. The result is tantalising glimpse of what the quintet could’ve been. There are delights aplenty here, from the horns of opener Let The Music Play to the soul drenched Here Come The Tears, with only Ride That Train revisiting more familiar garage rock territory. There’s time for reflection too with Leave It In The Past’s bygones being bygones, but the highlight comes via High Tide’s wistful pop, proof that inspiration can come from any of the four corners of this country – if you ever choose to embrace them.

You can read a full review here.

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