It’s a pleasant bit of mythology for us to believe that the band Prince Rupert’s Drops was born fully formed, capable immediately of the versatility and beauty on display throughout their debut album, “Run Slow.”
This belief (which we really don’t believe) stems from the way the songs of Prince Rupert’s Drops hang together so exquisitely, forming an album that boasts an enormously ear-pleasing equilibrium, equal parts psychedelic strength and folky fragility, balladry merging with badass-ery. Songs long and short, with vocals male and female, merge together in a way that manages to paint a sonic scene of effortless symmetry – an appropriate aural reference to the form from which the band takes their name.
As pleasant as it may be for us to believe this instant-origin myth of Prince Rupert’s Drops, we know it’s not the case – indeed, we know it’s likely never the case.
But we allow ourselves to flirt with this belief of the band springing forward, fully-formed, knowing how to “Run Slow” before they ever learned to crawl. We allow ourselves this because we know as much as about the history and mystery of Prince Rupert’s Drops as we do about the concepts of tensile stress and amorphous atomic structures that define their namesake. Which is to say: we know nothing.
But what do you need, beyond (beyond is beyond) your ears, to appreciate the beauty and explosiveness of Prince Rupert’s Drops? Nothing. Enjoy a record that delivers on its promise of everything.
“For John was running, and this was terrible. Because if you ran, time ran. You yelled and screamed and raced and rolled and tumbled and all of a sudden the sun was gone and the whistle was blowing and you were on your long way home to supper. When you weren’t looking, the sun got around behind you! The only way to keep things slow was to watch everything and do nothing! You could stretch a day to three days, sure, just by watching!” – Ray Bradbury, “Dandelion Wine“