Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs Walk Us Through Their Long-Anticipated Sophomore LP Track by Track

Orlando Higginbottom shares how Vegas, clowns, and cosmic warmth inspired When the Lights Go, his first full-length in a decade.
Track by Track

Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs Walk Us Through Their Long-Anticipated Sophomore LP Track by Track

Orlando Higginbottom shares how Vegas, clowns, and cosmic warmth inspired When the Lights Go, his first full-length in a decade.

Words: Gareth O'Malley

Photo: Alexandra Waespi

September 09, 2022

It feels so good to say this—especially after vinyl delays held it up a further six weeks—but the sophomore Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs album is finally here. When the Lights Go is a hefty 17-track, 64-minute listen that finds Orlando Higginbottom returning to the spotlight in earnest after last year’s The Distance EP set the scene for a long-overdue return. 

His debut album Trouble celebrated its 10th anniversary earlier this year. So much has happened since then on a personal, professional, and global scale, and to pick up where he left off would have been dishonest. Don’t get me wrong; particularly in its pop-leaning cuts like opener “Crosswalk,” “Never Seen You Dance,” or the apocalyptic anthemics of the title track, Higginbottom leans even harder into the sound he established a decade ago, refining and updating it, but the intimidating stretch of time since the debut’s release has inspired him to take bigger risks on a record that’s wonderfully cohesive in spite of the sprawl.

There’s plenty to chew on elsewhere on When the Lights Go: “Blood in the Snow” and closer “Thugs” marry the personal and political, while “The Sleeper” and “Sound & Rhythm” provide two very different kinds of emotional release. Higginbottom’s return should satisfy existing fans and make plenty of new ones as it displays the sort of confidence and razor-sharp songwriting that smashes this long-gestating second record out of the park. 

When the Lights Go is out now via Nice Age. Stream it below while you read Orlando’s track-by-track guide to the entire thing.

1. “Crosswalk”
Risk and reward. Forgive me for all the gambling metaphors, but that’s the deal with l-o-v-e. You can’t win if you don’t go for it, and you don’t need me to explain the rest. It’s a ridiculous and heroic pursuit—I think the outro reflects that better than the lyrics sometimes. I absolutely was thinking about Vegas the whole time I was writing this song. 

2. “Persuasion”

A morning song, struggling to get out of bed. Depression, for no particularly good reason, dulling enthusiasm and action. The short little kick of relief you get when you choose not to engage with what faces you. 

3. “Blood in the Snow”

I was thinking about a famous sad clown performance I saw as a kid when I started writing the instrumental music for this. The scene was baltic and snow covered. I’d also been listening to all the Sibelius symphonies, and I think that had something to do with the landscape in my mind. The lyrics and melody appeared together. It’s a song about wanting to have children in a doomed world—doomed specifically by climate change in this instance. 

4. “Never Seen You Dance”
Forget about dancing with your crush, this song doesn’t even know how to initiate conversation. Willing yourself along to make some kind of move, wondering how much time you’ll waste gathering up the courage. It’s fun though, right? When someone gives you that feeling. 

5. “Forever”
I don’t know, I think about dolphins with this one. Cosmic warmth, it’s not about human love. Can you dig it?

6. “The Sleeper”

This is a sad song. I didn’t really see that when I was writing the verses, but came back to them after a few years and saw clearly it was about feeling unworthy of love. Boooo. I think there is a sense of “coming change” as it develops, and it doesn’t leave on too bad a note. 

7. “Story”

A wave of hope after a gloomy period. How silliness can break through the fog and lift you up, back to something like yourself. 

8. “Sound & Rhythm”

This is my idea of a festival track. In the crowd and your attention is not on the stage or the music, but on the couple of friends around you. Together tuned in to the lowest common denominators of sound on the one hand, on the other hand feeling something righteous and uplifting. That’s what I was going for anyway… 

9. “When the Lights Go”

The final song I wrote for the album, and I think it sums something up: the “love quick before the end of the world” feeling that appears to be the main theme. 100 percent Italo influence. 

10. “Basement”

Only trivia to report: made from sounds from other tracks on the album.

11. “Friend”

I was imagining what I thought Savage Garden songs sounded like (I didn’t know any, but thought maybe I had an idea). It took me somewhere at least, somewhere underwater. I played a lot with pitching the whole track up and down, but settled on letting it be. I think it’s obvious what it’s about, and would ruin it to explain. 

12. “Be with You”

The most hopeful song on the record. 

13. “Treason”

This song came from sessions I did with VÉRITÉ and Shura, respectively. The ideas were left on the cutting room floor and I stuck them together for myself. I’m very happy with how strange this one is. 

14. “Through the Floor”

I guess this is directly [autobiographical]. I hope it sounds a bit like a cop show theme song and a dusk festival banger at the same time. 

15. “Silence”

Timeout on the Lego space base.

16. “Blue Is the Colour”

The riff was definitely written just before sunset and on a day listening to a lot of Keith Jarrett. I wrote the chorus lines in the car listening to an unrelated Patrick Cowley instrumental. I think Todd Rundgren is in here somewhere too. So ’70s, and an acceptance. 

17. “Thugs”

A song about being born into a patriarchal, violent world. I’m most proud of this track, I find it hard to write lyrics about politics, and I’m pleased with this.