Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *

There is something about the mountain that compels us to climb higher than we arguably should find ourselves, that the drive to see the world below us from such a vantage point is on a par with placing ourselves in the thoughts of Icarus as he strapped on his tar soaked feathered as found himself wondering just how high he could actually go. It probably amounts to the allusion that we give ourselves that the mountain top is the pinnacle of human conquest and from there the domain can be seen as electric and boundless.

Sacred Ape’s Electric Mountain is huge in scale, it feels ominous, overpowering, the lyric free step up the sides of a beast of nature and yet one that Sacred Ape is willing to traverse, to find its way and leave a trail in the snow driven paths and obstacle inducing moments of worry, that is easily identified and positive in its endeavour. A symbol perhaps of John Bassett’s sense of drive and passion that on each instrumental track played, the listener can visualise the map as it unfolds out in all its glory and the instructional belief of having someone in your ear telling you to climb on, climb on and achieve your own goals.

There is a time to fear the mountain and there is a time in which to let the splendour of the vision before you make you believe in a higher purpose, that you don’t even need to see the world from the summit and look down on all you survey, all that is required is to keep your feet on the ground but your ideals and dreams take a step each day to the point where you are comfortable, where the balance is kept and the cliff face of oblivion is on the opposite side from where you stand.

In tracks such as Grandma Doom and the Happiness Trap, Sunblock, Mono Grande and the killer finale of Headlights, Electric Mountain looms large and expansive but there is something deep and mysterious that calls this range, this peak, a home and it is not something to be feared, it offers a kind of salvation, a fascinating joy of spirit that encourages the listener to make plans, to by-pass the words of Icarus and just climb as far and explore as much as you want; come back down safely and holding the hands of the Sacred Ape that guided you.

Ian D. Hall