It’s an optimistic dance album, the soundtrack to a darkly disturbing musical, and the third album by Patrick Wolf, the youthful British beanpole who sports a fire-engine shock of hair and sings with a dramatic flare even David Bowie at his most glam never attempted.
Whereas Wolf previously pushed popular-music borders more subtly, Position takes its theatricality as seriously as its creator does his musical training. The initial tracks are all heartbeat drumming, building anticipation and the juxtaposition of harps, violas, horns and theremins with electronic wizardry and feverish beats.
But as the apparent fairy tale unfolds, ominous atmospherics cloud the horizon and boys with heavy hearts, stray dogs in empty parks, hot tears, final Decembers and sunlight-blocking bell towers dominate the scenery. After absorbing the woeful pianos and mortality musings of “Bluebells,” “Magpie” and “Augustine,” even the early title track, so joyous at first, now belies a touch of creepy dysfunction in its manic exuberance.
Parts of Position may be covered in a shiny pop sheen, but an encroaching gloom is never far. He may revere love as a mystical fantasy, but as far as Wolf is concerned, it remains that, only a fantasy.