Now this may mean absolutely NOTHING to the majority of our readers, but Grangemouth is an industrial shit-hole of a town, a mere nine miles from where I live. Sometimes it's hard to equate such cultural beauty could ever have sprung from such a dreary and soulless place.


I have planned to write about their main body of work at some later date but, as this is a Wassail, I'm going to take a look at their Festive release from December 1993.

As you would imagine, it's not a carbon copy of all previous interpretations, it's most definitely a Cocteau Twins song; instantly recognisable by both the production and, of course, Elizabeth Fraser's extraordinary vocal performance....
Before we discuss the flipside (another seasonal treat), let's talk about THAT voice. Nothing prepares you for the impact of hearing Elizabeth Fraser's singing for the first time; at times it doesn't even sound human, like some swirling cumulus of angels and aliens, leaping octaves in a single breath and making you feel like Heaven is holding a fireworks display inside your head. I find it really sickening that people fall over themselves to proclaim that singers like the late Amy Winehouse, or Duffy or Adele have these incredible voices, lazily comparing them to Aretha Franklin or Dusty Springfield, while Liz Fraser is genuinely gifted in a way comparable to Asha Bhosle, Ofra Haza, Shahin Badar or even Bjork. Even voice specialist Tona de Brett claimed Liz had one of the greatest voices she had ever heard, so how come she's not hailed as one of our greatest ever vocalists except by us here at the ~Streetlamp~?

Interestingly, and with true Independent stance, the Cocteaus deleted the single as soon as it hit the national charts; something that in this age of Cowell-saturated demeaning of the Christmas spirit , I find rather satisfying!
These days all that seems to emanate from Grangemouth is over-priced fuel and clouds of suspicious gas. Oh for the halcyon days when Heaven could be found within the Central Belt.
~Gordon~
Well Spoken !
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