Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Ian Grimble and Richard Matthews of Communion Music at 2KHz, Crouch End, London
The Night specializes in those moments when people light one another up. The UK-based band has a knack for turning our heads to look at those times when two people are exactly where they want to be. They are with the one that makes them feel the most loved, or they're working furiously to get back to that someone. They've thrown the curtains open and they've laid themselves on the floor in those hot, sun patches. They've let themselves be cooked by indoor light and the embrace of someone special. They let the lights drop. They get themselves lost in that rare, stardusted evening where nothing can be planned, where the encounters are unscripted and mythical. They are the evenings that put a glow into people rather than draining them pale and mopey.
The ladies of The Night find themselves worrying about the state and location of their hearts, doing so in a way that would make Christine McVie and Stevie Nicks proud. They speak for most of us when they insist that we all would like to be in possession of our own and we'll take great pains to keep them safe if we can secure them. Sometimes, these are repossessions and they're not so easy to orchestrate. They must deal with what it feels like to operate on batteries, without that heart, the blood and the pain flowing through god knows what to get to all of their parts. The alkaline can be easily detected by the tongue when that's the case. They'd rather that taste of pumping blood - which tastes oddly enough like moonlight and skin - and they're determined to get back there, rather than having to deal with the depressing empty bed they'd be going home to tonight.