You don’t really want to know how long it’s taken me to write this review, for a whole host of reasons I’d rather not bother you with. Suffice to say, English quintet The Shadow Project were happily making music together when I started this review, but that doesn’t quite hold true any more. I seem to recall a similar thing happening after I suggested that GY!BE’s Yanqui U.X.O. didn’t quite live up to the standard of Slow Riot For New Zero Kanada. It’s got to the stage where I dare not be disrespectful about any future Mogwai release, lest a similar fate befall them. Anyway, I digress; in the most convoluted way imaginable, I’m going to tell you exactly why the death of The Shadow Project makes me very sad indeed.

July 13th 2006 is a date which will surely go down as one of the greatest days in living memory. Sure, my wedding day was pretty special, getting all those degree certificates was quite nice too, and I don’t think I’ll ever forget the day I first discovered Marks and Spencers’ hot chocolate fudge pudding. But, you see, July 13th was the day I saw Yndi Halda live, in a dingy room above a dingy pub in a particularly dingy area of Manchester.

I arrived at the venue with a long-time gig buddy of mine; we’d been going to gigs together since seeing Mogwai in the late nineties, but over time his taste gradually became more mainstream, while I had started to take a dislike to any band with more than six fans worldwide. All of this meant that he’d somehow never even heard of Yndi Halda, let alone heard their EP – an unfortunate fact that just cried out for rectification. So, as I drank Coke in preparation for the long drive home and he took advantage of the bar’s unwritten special “drink all the beer you want, for as much money as you have in your wallet” promotion as he so often did, we gathered in front of the stage.

The first of the four support acts was Collides in Arc, a two-piece who almost made up for their lack of any sense of timing or tunefulness with their considerable enthusiasm. Next up was McWatt, an entertaining duo who flitted adroitly between various stringed instruments, accordions and flute. So far, so good. Third on were Fighting, an instrumental band with two drummers, who claimed to be entirely improvisational, and who gained much kudos for playing one continuous 40-odd minute behemoth of a song despite incurring a snapped guitar string a few minutes in.

The final support act was none other than The Shadow Project. Knowing nothing of the band other than that they’d received acclaim from the manager of Sigur Rós, John Best, I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. However, right from the outset I was blown away; glitchy electronica gave way to hugely powerful - yet somehow ambient - guitar-led walls of sound. Vocals and other sound bites appeared intermittently, barely audible above the blissful melodies. It probably only lasted forty-five minutes, but it could have been hours – I was completely lost in the music. As the band left the stage, my friend yelled “superb!” and gave a standing ovation, before saying to me “they were just as good as you told me they were!” and heading to the door. As I queried this statement, it transpired that in his beer-addled mind, he’d lost the ability to count to five and genuinely believed he’d been watching Yndi Halda. He was quite happy when the realisation dawned that Yndi were still to come – and even more pleased when they came on stage and outstripped all expectations. Still, the drunken sot was right; The Shadow Project was spectacular that night, and left me in eager anticipation of their album.

Now fast forward to 2007, and the release of their debut album A Beauty To Fight For. I’d acquired their Voices and Objects Appear EPs in the meantime – both works of art in their own rights, but neither quite living up to the extremely high expectations arising as a result of the gig. It was slightly disappointing that three of the ten tracks on the album were reworked versions of EP tracks – although given the limited availability of the EPs, I don’t think that should necessarily be held against them. The occasional vocals, in a similar vein to the now defunct Johnny Poindexter, are a bit hit-and-miss at times; check out “Accept What You Destroy” and you should see what I mean. Perhaps, at the live show, the intermittent singing was too inconspicuous behind the thunderous guitars to bear any real relevance to the music.

But, as they say, no-one and nothing is perfect; these minor niggles aside, it’s quite hard to find fault with A Beauty To Fight For. It’s a matter of debate as to where The Shadow Project fit into the post-rock scale; I daresay that post-pop might be a more fitting genre title, with the sublime “Never Come Down” – the opening song from their Manchester set – and the incredible “Voices” having the grandiose airs of indie anthems. In “Voices,” lilting guitars swirl around the spoken-voice diatribe on modern life, before pianos enter into the affray. “…And All Is Fine” builds into a tremendous, enveloping Jakob-esque haze, albeit with far more of a joyous feel to it than the desolate tunes of the New Zealanders. Integrating electronica into the equation might invite comparisons with such bands as 65daysofstatic, but TSP have used decks to create their own, considerably more uplifting sound.

All-in-all, A Beauty To Fight For gives a tantalising glimpse of the brilliance of The Shadow Project’s live set – but, with such high expectations, it was always likely to fall fractionally short. That’s no denigration of the fine work they’ve put into this album, though, merely an indication of their talent as a live band. If it’s good enough for John Best, then it’s good enough for you. Perhaps one day, TSP will see fit to reform and build on the strong foundations that they’ve laid; fingers crossed in the meantime.

-Richard White