David Gedge retired The Wedding Present name in 1997, admirably soon after the British band's peak. Before allowing personal disinterest or fatigue to set in, he switched gears and band names, launching the sunnier Cinerama with then-girlfriend Sally Murrell. For at least one album, it seemed like a good idea: The urgency and longing of stormy relationships and buzzing guitars were shelved to make room for fleshed-out pop on 1998's mostly good Va Va Voom. Everything after, though decent, suffered diminishing returns, and Gedge's final Cinerama lineup—minus Murrell, both personally and professionally, and plus Wedding Present guitarist Simon Cleave—began leaning back toward a more vehement, noisier time, even playing some of the old band's songs live, to the pleasure of fans eager for the old days.
With Take Fountain, Gedge makes things official: The Wedding Present name is back, along with the louder guitars and weightier lyrics. While the group couldn't hope to reach the dark heights of its 1992 pinnacle Seamonsters, the latest lineup does manage to recapture some of the dwindled spirit by amping things up. Most of the credit goes to the songs themselves, rather than the name they're played under: Even though Take Fountain was supposedly begun as a new Cinerama album, its tone—Gedge at his most dejected and direct—probably made the switch obvious.
Take Fountain—the name is an obscure Bette Davis reference—ramps up immediately with "Interstate 5," an epic eight-minute song that immediately reintroduces The Wedding Present's intensity via an insistent, distorted guitar and Gedge's pointedly sexual lyrics. Like almost every song he's ever written, it gathers steam from the friction of a relationship's bookends: It's either the clawing-and-clutching beginnings or the stormy regrets of the end, and he's been consistently remarkable at examining both. The sparkly, quick "I'm From Further North Than You" runs through both sides, rushing through a six-week relationship in three minutes. The sharpest moment, though, comes when The Wedding Present slows down for "Mars Sparkles Down On Me," where Gedge once again faces the prospect of an ex-lover with a new man, asking "How can I just shake his hand / When it's been all over your skin?" Sure, it's familiar territory, but it's been too long since The Wedding Present was around to explore it. The band's return to the name might initially smack of a desperate reunion, but it's more than just symbolic: With Take Fountain, The Wedding Present reclaims its place as a thoroughly convincing vessel for pop heartache and joy.