Lemon Jelly is one of the loveliest bands in the world. (This is one of those rare statements where an understatement appears to be an overstatement.) My nonfiction lecturer once described the film critic Philip French as being like a warm bath with a really good vocabulary. Lemon Jelly is kind of similar, except their vocabulary is of sounds, rather than words.
Lemon Jelly’s name is also fitting for a band that makes music that’s sweet, but not saccharine. And there is a rather jelly-ish texture to their music, though not in a jellyfish sort of way. (That wouldn’t be so nice, but it might fit other kinds of bands.) Lemon Jelly could never be a lemon ice-cream or a lemon sorbet. That would just be weird. I was so happy to come across a second-hand copy of their Lost Horizons album last summer in London, as it contains one of the happiest songs ever written, Nice Weather for Ducks. I really bought it just for that song (I wasn’t really familiar with many others of theirs), but I was pleasantly surprised to find that the rest of the album was almost as good. In particular, I love Space Walk, Closer and Rambling Man.
Lemon Jelly’s music is on the same wavelength as bands such as The Books, AIR, Boards of Canada, I Am Robot and Proud, Stereolab and Lullatone. It’s happy, and it makes you feel good. It doesn’t bring up any unpleasant feelings in me, or remind me of stuff I’d rather forget. Instead, it does the opposite. Listening to them, I feel like my worries have been dissolved a little bit. Many other bands can also do that, of course, but Lemon Jelly does it in a very specific way that is totally unique to them. It’s wonderful when a band can do that.