Both Physical and Emotional – Tay Temple’s Tale of Travel into the Unknown in ‘Train’

Photography by Olivia Browse

It barely feels like yesterday that we piled boxes, clothes, guitars and all sorts of other delicate bits and bobs into the back of my mum’s car, bound for a place that would later become my home. New sights and sounds - friends and music have brought me some of my greatest and happiest experiences since moving to Manchester. Three and a half years on, I look back on my first few weeks with warming nostalgia - settling into accommodation, attending gigs and buying my first rounds of beer are more than happy memories, but what have shaped my adult life.

However, I would be naïve to suggest that this time was easy by any length of the imagination. The accommodation I moved into was loud, a bit grungy and full of new (often funky) people. The gigs I went to made me feel musically inferior a lot of the time as I routinely questioned myself whether I was good enough at my instrument to attend university alongside my seemingly-endlessly talented company. And it took me a little longer than most (maybe) to open up to a crowd of completely new faces, accepting that I did in-fact fit in with them.

“Train really showcases how terrifying moving away to Manchester at 16 was for me and how the constant traveling back and forth made me feel isolated with no real ‘home’. Although I’ve grown to love the city and the amazing people I’ve met I still get homesick and ‘Train’ is a message to those you love that you will see each other again no matter how long it takes.”

When I think of trains, I usually picture myself being crammed into a tiny space near the doors, surrounded by strangers, packed-in like sardines and launched across the country; the word ‘train’ has many negative connotations in my mind. And yet Tay Temple goes above and beyond, spiritually guiding me to the 1% of train rides that lead to me finding a nice seat on my own, book in hand and lost in the sonic contents of my headphones. The kind of journey that flies by as you cross calm rivers, never-ending fields, dog-walkers and lived-in towns.

An enchanting soundscape that could fit right into a title-sequence or credit-roll of a quaint countryside drama, Temple once again provides us with that level of attention-to-detail which draws aesthetics of nostalgia and nature. As with her last single, ‘Ladybird’, Temple’s song-writing is purposeful, creating impacting chord changes and minor harmonies. These tonalities pave the way for her lyrical content, homing in on the anxiety that so many of us have felt - and will feel – whenever crossing the threshold into new territory. I am without doubt that everyone who listens to Train will find something relatable.

Train extends past being a piece of art, succeeding in becoming a musical product in equal right. With headphones, the track becomes immersive and encompassing. Panning percussion tingles and twinkles like chimes on the wind, signifying the surrounding sounds of passing landscape. Lead guitar adds perfect atmospheric interference bringing that all-important soundscape up, down, out and around the listener’s senses. Holding this in consideration, the listener is no longer aboard a whirring, buzzing, modern machine, but in the quiet rear carriage of a steam engine – the puffing and chugging somewhere in the distance, barely within earshot and out of mind.

Despite the negative concepts at play in Temple’s work, I can’t help but drift away to a more serene environment when listening to Train. There are subtleties working throughout the track which lead to reassure its listeners that this isn’t simply a song about the struggle, but what comes after that too. It is easy to relate to Temple’s story, and to know that it might be your story too, one day, and perhaps it is you regaling your time and experience to someone else who might be going through it.

While many people will listen to music without analysing or thinking too deeply into the vibrations entering their ears (and it is perfectly fine not to do so), it is very refreshing to be able to appreciate something that has been crafted. It is for the same reason that we go to restaurants to enjoy finely cooked versions of food, or to the cinema to see our favourite films in the highest viewing quality possible. Artists have to make money, create products and manage their image. If they can simultaneously pour their hearts into their work, we will have that gourmet, high-fidelity product and will be able to love it on more than a surface level. Tay Temple does all of this with ‘Train’, giving us something packed with life and thought.