16
THE ORIELLES Spinning across a Northern Orion’s Belt of Liverpool, Manchester and Halifax, The Orielles have broken through the liminal spaces of everyday travel and escaped atop their own Disco Volador. Trace the etymology of the word disco, following its origins through discotheque – a library of records – you come to disqué, a derivative of the Latin word discus – further derived from the flat, spherical fish that lends its name to the disk-shaped object that propels through the air when thrown for sport. Alternatively, simply translate disco from Spanish to English and you arrive at disk a lot quicker than pulling up ancient Latin roots. But the journey isn’t a pointless one. The enduring shape of CDs and vinyl is more than mere coincidence. Follow the literal timeline of the word disco back to its Latin, Olympian roots and you arrive at a word defined by soaring movement and joyous levitation, all held in a seemingly effortless trajectory generated by human propulsion. Despite millennium separating their inception, discus still perfectly encapsulates the essence of disco music. This ancient combination of energy and movement has travelled through the ferevous 1970s and been plucked from the sky by THE ORIELLES. The band have harnessed the dynamism of the genre for their own brand of warped disco, manifesting in the creation of their second studio album, Disco Volador. Translated in to English as flying disk, the record is a luscious blend of avant-garde groove and psych concocted in the north of England. “Disco Volador could be a frisbee, a UFO, an alien nightclub or how you feel when you fly,” says vocalist and bassist Esme Dee Hand Halford in the record’s notes, adding “it is an album of escape; if I went to space, I might not come back.” The desired resistance to gravity isn’t entirely conceptual and abstract. The Orielles’ music and further members – Henry Carlyle Wade (guitar), Sidonie Dee Hand Halford (drums/vocals) and formerly Alex Stephens (keys) – have been in a state of flux for much of their years as a band since forming around eight years ago. Their journey together was launched from Halifax in West Yorkshire, and has since drifted over to Leeds and then down through Manchester before crash-landing in Liverpool’s music scene, where it has resided for the last four years. In recent months The Orielles’ airborne vehicle has wiggled loose of Liverpool and settled in Manchester. However, the band’s first album, Silver Dollar Moment, and their most recent effort, were crafted while still tied to their adopted home on Merseyside. The city bore witness to their transition from garage rock trio to technicolour purveyors of indie-psychedelia, more recently spiced with samba sensibilities. Their continual state of pinballing between West Yorkshire and Liverpool only adding to the magnetic urgency of their music. With a musical existence defined by travel, it’s only fitting that a trip to Manchester is necessary on the day we meet to talk about the journey towards Disco Volador. Adequately fed and watered with kale pizza and beer, both Henry and Sid begin to reel in the album from its celestial reaches. “It all felt really fresh,” Henry starts, when asked if there’d been any overlap from their debut when looking towards the second. “The first set of demos for Disco Volador were in late 2018, so it was pretty quick after the release of Silver Dollar Moment.” The Orielles’ first album was released in early 2018 to much adoration. In their eyes, however, the album wasn’t the defining, coming-of-age expression many listeners marked it out to be. “We realised guitar music can be just as danceable as electronic music” FEATURE 17