To Believe

A core message for hope in a fragile world (delivered via singers like Moses Sumney and Tawiah) completes this delicate musical tapestry perfectly, resulting in a quietly triumphant comeback from the British masters.

Acts like the Cinematic Orchestra are sometimes dismissed as background music. To Believe refutes that completely. Its gentle warmth makes the work accessible. But once you've pressed play, there is no ignoring it.

The entire album is a triumphant showcase on how to master percussion, and the finished result is a dreamy 53 minutes that seems to end as quickly as it began. Stunning.

It’s an album that takes the sombre mood of today and translates it into downtempo music that’s both refreshing and thoughtful.

The British collective's first album in 12 years reopens their conduit for nocturnal electronic, modern classical and tempestuous jazz, all in an engaging wash. Credit their bold selection of vocalists. [May 2019, p.108]

To Believe doesn't rush along the cutting edge, but after 12 years absent, it hits this particular spot in time and space: sombre, tense, watchful, looking for calm, but gathering storms. [Apr 2019, p.92]

Roots Manua's particularly thrilling on the poignant urgent "A Caged Bird," but while "Lessons" suggest the warm post-jazz realms of Tortoise could have explored post TNT, no-one else combines dignified grandeur and soulful romance so effectively. [Apr 2019, p.26]

Right from the off, the reverb-laden guitar picking of the title track, augmented by the soaring vocal of guest Moses Sumney, feels understatedly devastating. And so it builds from such august beginnings. A song, a whole album evoking thoughts and questions around belief, what is worth believing in and what difference belief in something can make unfolds, drawing in the listener ever deeper.

To Believe is very much an experience that requires engagement if a worthwhile connection is desired; otherwise, it makes for a terrific soundtrack to a film that resides purely in the soul.

To Believe is a worthy return for The Cinematic Orchestra, developing their sound while keeping the trademark fusion between electronic and orchestral that Swinscoe and co. do so well.

They already ask us to follow them on a slow path colored by skipping, jazzy tunes like “Lessons” and deepened by the rich drones and humming strings of “The Workers of Art.” Trying to crack open a conversation about epistemology in the process is asking a lot of folks that might otherwise set this album running in the background.

Swinscoe has a knack for both producing lush orchestral movements and picking worthy collaborators. On To Believe, they are unfortunately not more than the sum of their parts.

This natural movement away from jazz has led them to a sort of awkward middle ground. It feels like To Believe is a beautiful soundtrack to a film we don’t have the visuals for. And it’s just not quite enough on its own.

The result is a mixed bag of songs with which the group continue to earn their moniker, through moody orchestral pop pieces adorned with the group’s signature electronics, but we’re left wondering whether the soundtrack might have been more interesting.