By the time Final Straw was being recorded, Snow Patrol were fed up. After releasing two albums that had been met with a general feeling of ‘nobody cares’ by critics and the public alike, they were on the verge of splitting up. Although loved by their fanbase, and popular within musical circles, they decided that if Final Straw failed then that would be it; Snow Patrol would split up and be no more. Lead singer Gary Lightbody, guitarists Nathan Connolly and Mark McClelland, and drummer Jonny Quinn gathered together for what could be their last recording session ever, and went for broke. Acknowledged as a deliberate attempt to appeal to the masses, the album was released in 2004, headed by single “Run”. And… they’re still together.

I really like this album. For me, it was a watershed album, a record that I bought at a time when I was just starting to really get into music. Previously I’d been buying safe stuff from modern blues artists, people like Norah Jones and Katie Melua, I’d never gotten into rock stuff, or alternative stuff, and really Final Straw was the first album I bought that had an edge to it, a bitterness and hostility that set it apart from my other records. I played it constantly for three years or so, and over that time I started to explore other music, I got into other music. So really, for me, Final Straw is the album that started it all off for me. But I’ll try to stay neutral, and keep away from praising it constantly. If I can. I listen to it rarely now, because it’s an important record for me, because along with Aimee Mann’s Magnolia soundtrack, it what really introduced me to music.

What’s great is that I can look at the album now, and still enjoy it. There’s an edge to it that carries it along, and the record feels complete, like a journey almost. Starting off with the final words of a relationship (How To Be Dead) and ending with the energy release of Half The Fun, it carries you along right from the start, gripping you with it’s sense of desperate urgency. The record is split into four distinct parts, and kicks off with “How To Be Dead”, which fails the first time it tries for a guitar melody, and then falls back onto xylophone, which then gives the guitars a chance to return. Acoustic-driven for the first half, the song is an argument between two people as their relationship cracks up. After each have said their piece, the record pauses briefly, and then breaks into a heavy guitar riff, dominated by the drum beat. After, the conversation closes and the argument ends, with the couple splitting up. It’s a heavy way to start the album, but the song, with it’s bittersweet message and spindling pieces of electronica, is a gem. It segues into “Wow” (Snow Patrol rarely have their song titles appear as lyrics) and the guitars roll around, until a drum beat comes in, and heavy, heavy guitars struggle to drown out Lightbody’s muffled and distorted vocals. In turn, “Gleaming Auction” and “Whatever’s Left” follow straight on respectively from the last song, in essence creating a four-song-suite - although with guitars, not with Nancy philharmonic nonsense. Gleaming Auction is a song which struggles to keep away from the guitars, which sound dangerous and are always on the edge of breaking out and taking the song - Whatever’s Left, on the other hand, starts off dark and grows darker and heavier as it goes on. Yet there’s a strange sense of melody creeping throughout the four songs which holds them together, and keeps them on the right side of grunge.

“Grazed Knees” is a slow, thoughtful song, with slow guitar melodies and a plaintive call for help from Lightbody as he deals with the aftermath of returning to an old girlfriend for a rebound fling – always a bad idea. Keyboards come in, and announce the appearance of “Ways & Means”, another song with crashing guitars and hard drums. It’s one of my favourites, actually, because the chorus is totally a singalong, even if it is distorted quite heavily at times. Everything seems to be building up, and the chorus doesn’t disappoint. Neither does the short two minute track “Tiny Little Fractures”, which sails along quickly with fast vocals, fast guitars… strong drumming, and a “whoa-owa-whoa-owa-whoa, yeah” chorus which begs you to join in. But all this is just a set-up, so the guitars can exhaust themselves in time for “Somewhere A Clock Is Ticking”, the best song I’ve yet heard about the Iraq war. It’s sung from the viewpoint of a scared new recruit trying to make sense of his position and stay alive. It’s a slow-burner of a song, held back remarkable-well by the band, who refuse to release the full force of the guitars until the song is ready for them. It’s a masterpiece of timing, a highlight of the album, and a stunning song in it’s own right. It’s the sort of song that can send goosebumps up every part of your body at the same time, and make you feel like you’re totally still. The third section of the album closes with “Same”, which deals with the fallout of the extreme ending of “Somewhere…” A piano, surprisingly, is the lead for the song, and it closes everything off, the themes of a broken relationship, trying to get over troubles, everything is dealt with and wrapped up here.

It’s been quite a journey for you guys too, judging by the length the word count says I’ve got to. Apologies for wandering on, but as I mentioned repeatedly before, this is an important, seminal album for me. I won’t endlessly praise the album any more, but I’ll say this instead. Every track is important. Every melody, lyric or piece of static have their place, and everything clicks together to make the album a whole. Many albums today are a collection of songs, but this restores the album as an entity and makes it important again. It’s demanding and significant, and I can’t ask for anything else.