It was already whimsical.

Walking up the steps to St Pancras Old Church, which has stood there for over 1000 years, to attend the very first unveiling of Arliston’s new album, Disappointment Machine.

It’s fitting for an album that explores the resilience of persistence through things (or thoughts) that are out of your control.

The self-proclaimed ‘sad song specialists’ based in Brixton intertwined their full album setlist with a scripted breakdown of the struggle behind each track, but it was scattered with relatable humour.

They take great pride in their title. Call yourself something enough times and you’ll become it. However, if you drill down even deeper, call yourself a specialist, write songs about it, and embody it for long enough; then you emerge full circle. 

For Arliston, they’ve been swimming in the swamp of emotional turmoil for so long that they’ve started producing songs in Major Keys.

It’s like being in the rain with no umbrella with a takeaway pizza. At first, you’re filled with this intense rage and hate of the world. Then you and your pizza become so wet that you almost start crying. At this point, when the crying almost starts there’s this switch that flicks and it becomes funny. You’re not hurt, your pizza still resembles a circle, and you look over at the old lady who’s just been tidal-waved by a bus driving through a puddle, and, suddenly, things aren’t that bad. When you’re home and dry, it’s a funny story. In a few years, it’s a fond memory. 

While they might not be fond memories for Arliston, Disappointment Machine offers an elevated view that looks in the rearview mirror on seemingly mountainous problems with a clarity they can talk about - and perform.

Maddie Ashman accompanied the group on cello to complete the immersive sound that echoed around the church. 

Behind the jokes, it was a vulnerable moment for Arliston as they played Disappointment Machine. There was no studio or Spotify to hide behind, only a room full of eyes and ears eager to witness the latest work. It evoked a strong empathy toward the group, with Jack Ratcliffe’s vocals shadowing the trepidation in his body language. 

There’s an energy of Felix Rösch, bringing modern soundscapes into almost classical music through George Hasbury on the keyboard. It brings a much greater depth with a deeper bass on even the most traditional instruments like piano.

I don’t think the duo could have asked for a better album launch. It’s a solid milestone to conquer that sets them up for a future of exciting things that will have them struggling to write a second sad song album.

Okay, off to play some reggaeton to pull my algorithm back out of its pit x