Somewhere between the morbid poundings of Bauhaus and film director Peter Greenaway at his most baroque lay a chilly quartet called Cranes.
Jim Shaw (drummer and composer) and his sister Alison (vocalist and lyricist) took seriously the notion of distilling music to its emotional core – and made a tense and scary record about being tense and scared.
The band’s dramatic, hypnotised melodies chugged or wafted or buzzed, while childlike vocals – trapped a dimension away – pleaded for release.
As with The Cocteau Twins, Cranes’ “lyrics’ were basically wordless, but if Liz Fraser babbled ethereally in the service of music as music, Alison Shaw’s hunted, haunting singing was terror itself.
Cranes were more subtle than their noise-band and Goth-rock predecessors.
Vocals, bass, guitar
Drums, guitar, bass, keyboards
Guitar, bass, keyboards