Night Swimming are shoegaze meets dreampop, and it’s a match made in heaven.
Hailing from Bath, their debut EP was released only last year; but they’ve been gathering plenty of momentum in the meantime, and welcome a sizeable Tuesday night crowd. It’s the first night of independent week, an initiative to promote and celebrate independent venues. Venues like the Sunflower Lounge are instrumental to the ecosystem of live music, consistently championing new sound and tailoring experience.
The band grace the stage looking like they’ve just wandered out of an indie coming-of-age film, and Night Swimming are here to make us all believe we’re the main character. Their sound is cinematic, ambitious. The fantastic vocals of Meg Jones remind me of Warpaint or Cocteau Twins; ethereal, elusive. Her technique is so precise and understated, that I scarcely realise I can’t hear the lyrics (very Elizabeth Fraser). It’s wordless expression, driven by emotion. Accompanied by the shimmery riffs, they create a new, loose, instinctive mode of expression.
Standout track Second Chance is mesmerising, reaching soulful peaks. The two guitars seem to reach out across the stage, back and forth in eager communication. Each member is an energetic presence, responsive and open, creating a bouncey and dynamic sound. It’s at this point that Jones whips out the tambourine (always promises a good time) approaching each twist and turn with a sweet, slight humour. She leads their ethereal atmosphere, turning to the audience with expectant hands and wide eyes, performing with steady excitement. To lead a band is a feat of vulnerability, and she certainly doesn’t shy from that, embodying such rawness in her voice and demeanour. It certainly helps that she has the voice of an angel. She hits notes that give me goosebumps.
They navigate a confident repertoire with songs pushing the five-minute mark. Here, they take up exactly as much space as they need, demonstrating a thoughtful approach to a set as a dynamic live experience. Submarine is a new track, and they share with some reverence that they played it for the first time only last night! It’s extraordinary stuff, brimful with potential, like a submarine arcing all the way out of the water. It builds to fuzzy noise, a searching melody punctuated with whispers—each thought, a tremendous secret between us all.
Beyond the surreal pop, they hold their own when it comes to danceable fun (no shortage of danceable fun here). The melodies come in fast, and everyone’s dancing to their spectacular cover of Here’s Where the Story Ends. It’s only in this moment I notice the influence of the Sundays on their sound. Playing into the audience’s familiarity, they really come into their own here, reaching a point of brilliant clarity. It’s nostalgic, it’s warm, it’s mournful.
Jones announces it’s their last song, and is met by disappointed booing—it seems it’s all over too quickly! They bow out with their single, Five Year Plan, a fantastically fuzzy, ethereal love song. It’s rippled with melancholy, but overwhelmingly, hope, with resolution reached in the driving bassline, as the vocals finish and the beat takes over. It’s an uplifting end, promising more from this fantastic new act. “One more,” the audience yell, and Jones has to apologise. “Thank you…but we’re out of songs!” All I can say to this is, well, I hope they write some more.
Night Swimming are gems of the independent scene. Their style is pleasingly tangential, with winding melodies and smatterings of snare growing to complex creative expression. With a voice clear like water, a darkness of tone, and sonic waves to get lost within, it feels like we really are night swimming!