Paul Garside’s ‘Mariana Trench’ is built around one of his strongest metaphors yet: the feeling of being so far beneath the surface that light seems almost unreachable, followed by the slow, uncertain journey back towards it.
Written about his own experience of depression, the track carries that emotional weight without becoming consumed by it. The chords rise and fall, the rhythm keeps pressing forward, and the arrangement gradually suggests ascent rather than complete collapse.
And that momentum is helped enormously by the percussion. Jamie Jordan’s bodhran and JJ Bugoma’s shaker and congas bring contrasting textures into the same space, creating a pulse that feels organic and constantly mobile. Chris Madden’s Hammond B3, Tyson Trbczyzski’s double bass and Salla Rimmi’s backing vocals add warmth around Garside’s acoustic foundation, expanding what began as a much simpler song into something far more layered.
Captured initially with Andy Le Vien at RMS Studios in South London before being expanded remotely by musicians across Scotland, Uganda, Poland and Finland, the track feels unusually communal for something born from such an isolated subject.
While Niilo Sirola’s final mix wisely avoids drowning the arrangement in effects, favouring a broad, open sound that allows the instrumentation to remain clear and tactile.
But what ultimately gives ‘Mariana Trench’ its power is its refusal to romanticise the darkness. Paul Garside acknowledges the depth of the experience, but the song is always focused on the possibility of resurfacing.
Warm, reflective and quietly uplifting, ‘Mariana Trench’ turns survival into forward motion; delivering a deeply personal folk-rock song that keeps its eyes fixed on the light above.
