The beauty of Public Service Broadcasting lies in how they bring dustier corners of the past into vivid life by mixing their machine-tooled motorik with contemporaneous speech recordings and effects.
After previously exploring key moments the space race, the decline of the Welsh mining industry and the city of Berlin, their fifth album investigates the final journey of aviator Amelia Earhart, one of the first global superstars and someone who lived life resolutely on her own terms (coincidentally, Laurie Anderson’s new album, Amelia, was also inspired by her).
In the 1920s Earhart became the first woman to fly solo across the Atlantic and Pacific oceans, and The Last Flight explores her 1937 attempt to circumnavigate the globe in her new Lockheed Electra plane. After completing two-thirds of her journey, the circumstances and location of her subsequent disappearance somewhere in the Pacific remains a mystery almost a century on.
Here, voice actor Kate Graham reads Earhart’s journal entries and transcripts of communications, lending it a human connection. Although the ominous bass chords and wistful trumpet in the atmospheric opener I Was Always Dreaming suggest the drama that’s about to unfold, it is not all doom-laden – even if the portentous phrase ‘I have one good flight left in me’ is repeated throughout.
Towards The Dawn showcases PSB’ gleeful, full-on surf-meets-post-rock interests. Andreya Casablanca’s joyous vocal on The Fun Of It brings the playfulness of Earhart to life; while the keening voice of Kate Stables – aka UK indie-folk artist This Is The Kit – over the sweet, gentle cello of The South Atlantic is a standout.
Elsewhere, Electra is classic PSB: all propulsive electrics, sound clips, layer upon layer of texture, ringing guitars. Monsoons perfects the group’s toff-Mogwai dimension to perfection.
A Different Kind Of Love, featuring Norwegian dream pop singer EERA, is the closest the collective may ever come to a soft-rock radio classic. With transcripts of the conversation between Earhart and husband George Putnam, it could almost fit into Michael Ball’s Sunday Love Songs show.
The eight-minute closer Howland – named after the Pacific island that was Earhart’s destination in her final communication – is suitably funereal, with mournful strings repeating as her messages gently drift away into the ether.
After one minute’s silence, a brief coda of audio verité ambience and birdlife from the uninhabited island today suggests that although Amelia Earhart is long gone, her memory and spirit live on. It’s a fitting way to end The Last Flight, an album that aims for both head and heart.
The Last Flight is on sale now via So Recordings.