Jessica Larrabee and Andy LaPlant have undertaken very much the done thing in the indie world (Bon Iver anyone?) and made a record in a cabin. Perhaps Brooklyn was getting just a bit too crowded for them. Maybe they had an argument with Interpol. Who knows? Either way, the radical change in surrounding hasn’t quite been matched with a change in sound for She Keeps Bees, but nonetheless Dig On does mark somewhat of a shift from the band’s previous album.

She Keeps Bees - Dig On

For those who have never heard She Keeps Bees before, they play satisfying blues-rock. Think early Cat Power and you’re half way there. Their 2009 record, Nests, featured a stripped down blues guitar with gritty riffs and rhythmic drums. Larrabee’s soulful lyrics wind their way alongside the instrumentation nicely. Comparisons with PJ Harvey are commonplace, and accurately made.

Dig On follows this format closely. Punchy opener, ‘Saturn Return’, is sparse to begin with, with a single guitar riff. It’s thirty seconds before drums come in. Just before the chorus Larrabee repeats ‘Dig beneath’ in a husky voice, and then it all comes crashing down in a guitar crescendo that the White Stripes would be proud of. This track demonstrates a change for She Keeps Bees. The last album worked more on the basis of quiet songs that shifted straight to crescendo. Dig On builds a song up and up until the climax becomes inevitable.

Stand out tracks include ‘Farmer’, which opens with ‘I was once a farmer, now I stand in lines’. It’s southern and it’s angry. The track moves on with a fierce guitar and soaring vocals, really showing the singer’s ability. Another is ‘Sister Beware’, which is more of a soul song than a rock song. The guitar is tamed and gentle percussion gives Larrabee the space to sing gently and pleasantly.

Dig On can blend into itself a bit too much however. Tracks blur together toward the end and it can get slightly samey, with little to distinguish itself. The last two tracks come and go and the record ends before you know it.

She Keeps Bees’ latest record is based on a very similar format to last time; satisfying blues songs that last about two minutes. Dig On is a great little record that passes half an hour nicely but lacks the punch of their debut and sadly fails to make itself stand out on occasion.

Okkervil River’s sixth full-length album sees the Austin boys make an emotionally-driven break with their last pseudo-double album effort, The Stand Ins and The Stage Names. Double albums are never easy to do well and critics were often far from restrained in pointing out the failures of Okkervil’s attempt. This was perhaps accentuated by the fact that Okkervil seem to be one of those bands who struggle to shake off the shadow of an earlier critically-acclaimed L.P., namely 2005’s Black Sheep Boy. I Am Very Far is a record that learns from its predecessors’ mistakes and builds on earlier successes.

Okkervil River - I Am Very Far

I Am Very Far is an angry indie rock album. Opening track ‘The Valley’ sees Sheff talking violence: “Watch the Sun/Switching in the Sky/Off and On/Where our Friend Stands Bleeding/On a Late Summer Lawn/Slicked-Back/Bloody Black/Gunshot to the Head/He is Falling in the Valley/Of the Rock’n’Roll Dead”. Cowboyish snare thumping and moody synth is added in to make a punchy opener. This opening salvo of angst turns into a barrage. The title track has catchy sauntering guitar riffs, a piano with a point to prove and a backing band, complete with chilling pianos. Sheff can’t seem to get his words out quick enough in this one, fuelling a sense of urgency. I Am Very Far’s thumping indie rock is reminiscent of tracks like ‘The Latest Toughs’ (That Black Sheep Boy precedent is proving hard not to talk about) and seems to go beyond some of the cheesier guitar riffs that the band indulged in on The Stand Ins and The Stage Names.

You’d think with all that rocking there would be little room to slow down, but Okkervil River display well their ability to make a balanced record. ‘Lay of the Last Survivor’ is slow and treads carefully with paced drums and delicate backing vocals. Sheff still gets his melancholy in though, opening the track with “She went out and found her father face down in the cold“. ‘We Need a Myth’ is a highlight of the record. The track starts with buzzing violin and a grandiose piano but halfway through switches to an electric guitar riff that nicely permits some of that anger back in.

We highlighted the difficulty of not talking about Black Sheep Boy when we began but when it comes down to it, that was a great record and Okkervil have captured some of that magic with their latest album. I Am Very Far is a purposeful and gratifyingly angry indie rock record. Scheff weaves a new sense of energy into his songs that was often lacking in his last two efforts and the addition of a backing band in many of the tracks makes the experience all the more grand; a fine return for Okkervil River.

The Broken Family Band is one of those bands that occupies a happy place in the heart of many an indie fan. Unfortunately, the band felt they had reached their artistic limit last year and the outfit was put to bed. The smart money was on frontman Steven Adams being the first to return to the fray and that bet has come in with his latest outfit, Singing Adams. Adams has assembled an impressive collective of accomplished British indie musicians – Matt Ashton (Saloon and The Leaf Library) takes guitar, Michael Wood (Michaelmas) is on bass, and Melinda Bronstein (Absentee and Wet Paint) hammers away on drums. Everybody Friends Now is their delightful debut album.

Singing Adams - Everybody Friends Now

Lyrically, the album wraps around typical Adams territory. Unrequited love, breakups, awful girls and self-deprecation is Adams’s forte and there is plenty here. Opener, ‘Move On’ is about a friendship where one person wants more and, faced with rejection, having to… well… move on. ‘If it didn’t happen then’, posits Adams, ‘It never will!’ his bandmates honestly, if harshly, reply in the chorus. The single, ‘I Need Your Mind’, is a rhythmic number powered by Bronstein’s excellent percussion. Adams’s vocal ability really comes out in this track in particular as he rapidly delivers a snaking trail of words with perfection.

For the debut album of a new band, Everybody Friends Now perhaps paradoxically dwells rather a lot on old age. ‘The Old Days’ is a fantastic song, which again shows off how good a drummer the band possesses. Wood’s bass follows nicely along with Ashton’s carefully-paced guitar. As the title suggests, this track deals with an individual looking back at a lost youth: “I could have shown you once/I was the man/I had the whole world in my hands but now/I’ve seen my hair falling out/I’ve got a gut, I’ve got a bad heart/You should have seen me in the old days“. Adams honesty and dark humour is evident throughout the record and adds that extra something you’d expect from his music.

Singing Adams have a heavier rock sound than The Broken Family Band, and this is perhaps the mark of distinction between the two. Even tracks that are touching like ‘Old Days’ feature a heavy rock-out where Ashton is allowed to go crazy with a good guitar solo. Despite this grittier sound, Singing Adams are capable of a simple indie pop song. ‘Injured Party’ opens with a jangly guitar line and is backed up by quick drums throughout. Adams’s catchy melody is backed up by his bandmates well in the chorus to make for a great pop song. Everybody Friends Now rocks out, takes it down, speeds up, and then chills out again. This versatility means you stay with it to the end even after a good few spins.

Everybody Friends Now is a charming debut that is pleasingly pop and gratifyingly rock. You find yourself singing along on the second listen because Adams is at his lyrical finest, making blunt matter-of-fact observations with his own knowing style. The album marks a fine continuation for Adams; The Broken Family seems to have become a happy one.

Though 2011 has featured political revolutions in North Africa, some things have not seen such change. Take the popularity of lo-fi synth-pop. Last year we had the likes of Wild Nothing and Secret Cities to dance along to, now we have Justin Vallesteros’s Craft Spells to keep the theme going. Craft Spells might have been just another bedroom DIY project that went unnoticed if it was not for Captured Tracks. The Brooklyn Label snapped up Vallestros and before you know it ‘Party Talk’ was released as a single. Idle Labor is the anticipated debut LP.

Craft Spells - Idle Labor

Throughout, Vallestros skillfully weaves catchy loop rhythms, pop guitar and cadenced bass with his airy melodies. Vallestros has a voice perfect for the music he produces; it floats through his songs effortlessly. Opener, ‘For the Ages’, starts slow with sparse synth but soon picks up with quick percussion and is over in less than two minutes. The rest of the Idle Labor keeps itself at this rapid pace until the end where ‘Given The Time’ starts slow with a Bat For Lashes-like creeping intro but again soon picks up the pace. The album has a real sense of urgency about it. Many of the tracks are three minutes long and the whole album is done with in about thirty-five minutes. Vallestros does not hang around making for a gratifyingly high tempo listen.

Standout tracks are the well-chosen singles. ‘Party Talk’ and ‘After the Moment’ serve as great adverts for what Craft Spells are all about. ‘Party Talk’ features a great Walkmen-esque jangly guitar rift. This track places Craft Spells within the current crop of American bands influenced by 1960s pop with its dreamy harmonies. Secret Cities have already been mentioned, but Summer Camp or Beach Fossils are the immediate comparisons one can make in this respect. ‘Party Talk’ is a great track and would not be out of place on a dance floor. ‘After the Moment’ has similar dance-appeal. Its melody is energetic and backed up by beats and a wavy synth pointing directly forward to the summer.

The problem with Idle Labor is that it’s attempting to make an impact in an increasingly crowded field. Bands that are influenced by 1960s dream-pop, use catchy guitar loops and liberally dabble in synth are not exactly hard to find these days; Beach House, Best Coast, Secret Cities, Wild Nothing, Summer Camp, Beach Fossils, to name a few. While tracks like ‘Party Talk’ or ‘After the Moment’ are great the rest of the album struggles to differentiate itself from this current collective of American bands. While not offering anything especially ground-breaking, Idle Labor is pervaded by some fantastic sounds that will be perfect for the summertime.

The Decemberists‘ The King is Dead marks a departure from recent form for the increasingly prolific Oregon quintet. Colin Meloy seems to announce this from the start with his opening line, ‘Here we come to a turning of the season’. Gone are the meta-narratives that drove 2009’s The Hazards of the Love and the album that started that particular penchant, 2006’s The Crane Wife. The concept of The King is Dead is that there is no concept. The band as such seem to be setting themselves free from having to correlate their work with what risked becoming overbearing storylines. Indeed, Meloy has said in recent interviews that he has wanted to free his mind from ‘more academic music interests’ and to play music that inspired him in his youth. What we have as a result is a tribute to Americana.

Making The King is Dead an Americana record brings it close to others who willingly embrace that particular genre and Meloy has been successful in choosing his inspiration. The record is permeated by early R.E.M; indeed Peter Buck even plays on three tracks. ‘Calamity Song’ goes back to the mid-1980s with its picked guitar loops and its Michael Stipe-esque chorus.  In a similar way, comparisons could be made with early Wilco, especially A.M. Employing Gillian Welch makes ‘Rise To Me’ touching as they both harmonise ‘they rise to you, you blow them down, let me see you stand your ground’.

The Decemberists effortlessly do all that is asked of them in producing a true Americana sound, a definite testament to their musical talent. In its recording, the album is clean and flawless. ‘Rox in the Box’ sees the accordion that the band has stuck with throughout their career deployed nicely and an accompanying violin adds the country vibe. With Meloy singing, ‘And it’s one, two, three, on the wrong side of the lee’, ‘Rox in the Box’ sounds like it is made to be played in a barn. Well the band in fact did just that; they recorded the whole album in an Oregon barn and they seem to be consciously attempting to match this rustic environment. ‘Down By The Water’ is loud and features a piercing but catchy harmonica; touches like this help to achieve the band’s goal of producing a pure Americana record.

Although this explicit objective is achieved one has to ask if by jettisoning ‘more academic music interests’ Meloy has sacrificed something essential to the band; its intelligent and playful lyrics. You can’t expect the Decemberists to dish out songs about whales or Victorian prostitutes and lace them with prose that occasionally needs a dictionary to make it comprehendible like they did ten years ago. That said, the band have made a career out of doing just that, and doing it well; Meloy is widely, and justly, credited for his lyrical ability. The King is Dead while brilliantly becoming an Americana record features few typical Decemberist flourishes and lacks the charm that it could have perhaps had.

The King is Dead is a fantastic Americana record that deploys the talents of the band in a new direction, one free from the meta-narratives that they obviously started to perceive as reductive. This makes for enjoyable listening. However, the record could have been improved if The Decemberists had embraced moderation; by setting themselves free they seem to have neglected applying touches, such as short and quirky narratives, that really defined past efforts like Picaresque.

The Russian Futurists - The Weight's On The Wheels

Just when you thought Matthew Adam Hart had thrown in the towel – just what has he been doing for five years? – The Russian Futurists come from nowhere with The Weight’s on the Wheels; the fourth studio album and one which returns to familiar territory.  In common with Hart’s past output, this album is pop-electronica drenched and rattles out twee synth melodies at speed. Like 2005’s Me, Myself & Rye, the record is also done and dusted in a little over thirty minutes. This is a good thing. Hart’s lo-fi electronica template, though admittedly effective, is at risk of getting a bit tiresome if stretched to a longer album. Russian Futurists records have never been the kind where you would want to listen to two in a row. The Weight’s on the Wheels is no exception to this, it is enjoyable for the thirty-seven minutes it lasts but does stray close to repeating itself on occasion.

This is more of a comment regarding Hart’s approach however, and not so much one concerning The Weight’s on the Wheels. The most noticeable change that seems to have occurred in the last five years is that Hart’s voice is a lot more prominent in his songs. Hart no longer walks alongside his twee synth loops but now leads them. This is a welcome addition from a talented lyricist who is influenced by Stephin Merritt. The opener ‘Hoeing Weeds Sowing Seeds’ is about farming. Strange, but Hart, like Merritt, is a lyricist who has the ability to make the use of a plough interesting.

The Weight’s on the Wheels cherry-picks its sounds from a number of genres, and this works well within the electronica framework that we have already identified. ‘Golden Years’ borrows from R&B as it slows down to a cadenced drumbeat. In places this particular approach falls on its face however. ‘100 Shopping Days Until Christmas’ is the low-point of the album. The track starts with Beastie Boys style drums and bass line but goes on to feature pseudo-hip-hop backing vocals that are cringe-worthy. Think cheese not a million miles away from 90s outfits like East 17. That said, generally speaking Hart is able to borrow from enough styles to keep you interested throughout.

The highlight of the album is the brilliant track ‘One Night, One Kiss’ which features a duet with Heavy Blinkers vocalist Ruth Minnikin. It has a great piano sample that plays throughout and the clapping in the background builds up to a fun chorus. Hart and Minnikin sing at each other throughout as a pair of star-crossed lovers on a dance floor; Hart sings, ‘In the club the music’s always blaring’ and Minnkin replies, ‘I looked around and boy I caught you staring’. This is not Belle and Sebastian twee romance though. ‘One Night, One Kiss’ has a refreshing frankness about sex that is rarely found coming from bands you would normally associate The Russian Futurists with. The chorus ‘Baby let’s be lovers/Spend the rest of the night under the covers’ attests to that.

The Weight’s on the Wheels is an enjoyable and decent effort from an artist coming back from a five-year hiatus. While the constituent parts of the record can come close to becoming indistinguishable and there are some hit and miss moments the Russian Futurists’ latest has enough pop synth hooks and catchy lyrics to overshadow these flaws.

Neil Hannon (photo by Andrew Seaton)

November 17, 2010

‘An evening with’ somebody suggests class; comfortable seating, a copy of the Guardian and a glass of red. I’m not seeing this as I enter the bottom floor of the 02 Academy, escaping from the rather strange Dickensian fog that seems to have returned to Oxford for the second time today. The familiar smell of B.O and the notices reading ‘NO CROWD SURFING YOU WILL BE REMOVED’ is all the class I can see. There’s a mature crowd stand around me; a family to my left talking about the X-Factor, a man behind predicting the result of the Ashes (this guy later asks Hannon his opinion; 3-2 for those who care/understand). There are some younger faces too, mostly students, as the garish leavers hoodie in front testifies.

On walks the support, Cathy Davey, who I recognise from looking at Wikipedia today, is Hannon’s gee-eff. Davey is in her own right an accomplished musician from Dublin and walks on wearing a lacy black dress and matching headpiece with a red flower in it. She picks up an electric guitar and sits down. Hannon has done well for himself. First up is ‘End of the End’ she announces in a sweet Irish accent. This soothing voice is transposed into musical form as she starts to play. Davey has a clean child-like voice with a hidden edge that only comes out in the chorus. Her asking of ‘Will you go easy on me?’ turns into howls later on. It’s emotive stuff and delivered with a powerful voice makes it all the better. The audience that aren’t at the bar appreciate it.

Cathy Davey (photo by Andrew Seaton)

Next up, Davey straps some cymbals around her right thigh and begins to tap a tambourine with her foot. ‘Little Red’ is the name of her next song she tells us. It turns out to be a dirtier track, with Davey strumming her guitar hard for satisfying crunches and gives us more howling. Davey tells us that she’s gonna wrap up her thirty minute set with ‘Universe Tipping’. The aggression comes out again as she sings ‘Kick him in the shin, go on, do your very worst’ and plays her way to an exciting chorus with yet more howling. Not the greatest conversationalist but a fantastic support nonetheless, she walks off the stage leaving me to work out who to compare her with. I make the easy choice and decide PJ Harvey, circa. ‘To Bring You My Love’ but with less effects and a cleaner sound overall.

Davey doing a shorter set than usual allows me to look around. Downstairs at the O2 is not brilliant; having two bars in one room equals a lot of noise. I decide to stop moaning. It’s probably just the heat. I’m still wearing my coat as I’m too tight to shell out for the cloakroom after being stung for four quid for some AAA batteries earlier. Still annoyed about that.

My concerns about the venue/audience immediately vanish though as the spotlight goes up and Hannon walks on to genuine appreciation from the audience. The theme-tune of Mr. Benn is playing and Hannon is kitted out in a smart suit, a bowler hat and a briefcase and has a pipe in his mouth. He looks just like the front of the Bang Goes the Knighthood album, just with more clothes below the neck thankfully. He exclaims ‘Oh my God, my chair!’ as he sits down at the piano and then, to general amusement, attempts to adjust his seat to a non-hobbit height. Hannon is in for a good time this evening. First off, ‘Assume the Perpendicular’; in the chorus he states ‘I want wooing!’ and he gets it. ‘You’re my kind of audience’ he replies. He gets a delighted round of applause that becomes standard for the evening. The crowd love him and he shows affection back in his jokes and warm conversation. I can’t help but feel he’s a nice guy.

Hannon foregrounds his next song by discussing the possible bailout of Ireland today by the E.U; this is going to be a polemic against the financial sector he tells us, and delivers just that in ‘The Complete Banker’. The song is performed well and with good humour and afterwards Hannon tells us ‘I had to get that out of my system’. Hannon goes back to the past with ‘The Frog Princess’ and asks the crowd to sing the French National Anthem like the recorded version; the men are going first, followed by the women. Hannon has a way of making you join in, like those red coats at Butlins goading you to come up and crucify yourself on the karaoke. Except this is fun. The audience are strangely good singers and can hold a note well, Hannon shouts ‘glorious!’ with pleasure. I’m really happy to hear ‘Sweden’ come up next, one of my favourite Divine Comedy songs. It’s performed well, considering that the recorded version relies heavily on imposing backing vocals and loud drums.

Neil Hannon (photo by Andrew Seaton)

Hannon switches to guitar after replying to a comment about his shoes; ‘Brown shoes shouldn’t go with a black suit’ he admits. ‘Becoming More Like Alfie’ is performed better by the audience than it is by Hannon, who doesn’t seem to be enjoying this song as much as the others. The people around me are more than willing to pick up the slack though. ‘Songs of Love’ had to come up and it does. The audience are asked this time to hum, and again perform well. ‘This is so camp!’ shouts Hannon. Next Davey comes back on stage for a duet of ‘I Only Have Eyes For You’; very sweet. ‘At the Indie Disco’ comes later; the crowd are asked to switch between clapping and finger clicking as Hannon visibly sweats in his suit, occasionally sipping a glass of wine (or Ribena?) for refreshment. Again, Hannon is reveling in his role as actor and performer. A bit of fun next with a cover of ‘Don’t You Want Me’ by Human League; the lights are disco flashing and the crowd starts to dance.

This sets the tone for the encore. When asking for requests Hannon readily accepts the shout of ‘My Lovely Horse!’, as seen on Father Ted, but only, he states, ‘if I do it like this’. He then goes on to play a hilarious version of the song in the style of Dean Martin. I make a mental note to watch that episode of Father Ted again. More laughs as Hannon charitably accepts another outlandish request, this time ‘Blue Monday’. This is similarly funny. Hannon plays it on the piano and beat boxes all his own sound effects until halfway through forgetting the words and giving in. The evening is rounded off nicely with ‘If’ and ‘National Express’ and Hannon bows, wishes us all a safe journey home, packs up his suitcase and walks off.

I return to the fog myself happy in the knowledge I witnessed not just a great musician and lyricist in action, but also in every sense a fantastic performer and actor.

Broken Records - Let Me Come Home

Broken Records are one of those bands that attract a lot of labels. The NME described the indie rockers on the release of their first studio album, Until the Earth Begins to Part, as the ‘Scottish Arcade Fire’. Back in 2007 the band did 60 shows. All of this amounts to a concerted effort on Broken Records’ part to break into the big leagues; to stand alongside the likes of Interpol or Band of Horses.

This ambition is reflected in Let Me Come Home in a real stadium rock sound; the band want, and indeed could on the back of this latest effort, to fill large venues. The opener, ‘A Leaving Song’, is a statement of intent in this sense; it starts with dirty guitars that justify the band citing Calexico’s Feast of Wire as an influence and works itself up into a frenzy later on with towering vocals. Frontman Jamie Sutherland proclaims loudly ‘I wanna feel alive’, and for the final crescendo openly screams out his excitement. The backing vocals are similarly epic; for a comparison look at what British Sea Power achieved on tracks such as ‘Waving Flags’ from Do You Like Rock Music?

The standout song is the brilliant ‘The Motorcycle Boy Reigns’, which sounds like something that could have fitted onto Interpol’s Turn On the Bright Lights with ease. It starts suitably ambient and by the chorus Sutherland is repeating the words, ‘We don’t know your name’, in a great display of his vocal talents resulting in a track that is as emotive as it is catchy.

Let Me Come Home maintains a high quality throughout. The L.P shows sophistication in its quieter moments as well as it does in its louder ones. Lyrically, Sutherland states that Let Me Come Home’s theme reflects ‘what was going on around me in the form of fears and concerns over making relationships work, and a need for security’. This dark mood is shown in tracks such as ‘I Used To Dream’ where Sutherland admits ‘I used to dream of leaving you, now I just sleep away the fear’; depressing and a tad self-indulgent yes, but the album never gets bogged down for too long or carries a too overtly melancholy feel all to the band’s credit.

If you feel disillusioned at the direction that Interpol and The National have taken this year then we would strongly urge you to take a listen to Broken Records’ latest effort. Let Me Come Home is a dark experience that draws on its Calexico and early Nick Cave influences effectively to deliver an indie rock record with considerable gravitas and sophistication.

Black Mountain - Wilderness Heart

If you can answer ‘yes’ to the title of British Sea Power’s 2008 album, ‘Do You Like Rock Music?’ then you should know about Black Mountain; the vanguard of the ‘Black Mountain Army’, a collective of Vancouver-based musicians and artists. Black Mountain stand out in the current Canadian crop for being unashamedly guitar-heavy; they like to rock out, and there’s not a violin in sight. One wonders what Win Butler makes of it all.

The band’s third album, Wilderness Heart, picks up well from the critically acclaimed In the Future and displays Black Mountain’s rock influences clearly. At times the record falls back to the 1960s for a prog-rock sound. Take ‘Rollercoaster’, which has a guitar hook and John Bonham-esque drums that could have easily been put out by Led Zeppelin. Other, more modern, rock influences are evident elsewhere. ‘Old Fangs’ is a great track in the mould of the Smashing Pumpkins with a chorus that leaves Stephen McBean and Amber Webber temporarily without guitars, just like a certain Mr. Corgan performs on songs such as ‘Zero’. Throughout, whether to Wolfmother or Deep Purple, Black Mountain bring themselves close to other bands in order to craft another unabashedly ‘rock album’. Need more proof? Have a look at the song titles. If ‘Buried by the Blues’ and ‘Let Spirits Ride’ don’t conjure up images of big hair and bigger guitars then nothing will.

It would be unfair to say though that Wilderness Heart is nothing but an imitation of the heavy rock giants of past and present. Though the L.P does not go anywhere radically new in terms of sound it was clearly not meant to and the touches Black Mountain bring to a crowded genre are welcome. The album is versatile. It swiftly rattles through all the different shades of rock we’ve talked about well and keeps overall coherency. It gets better after a few listens and has some great tracks such as the opener, ‘The Hair Song’; a fun track with a chorus that wants you to join in with it. Wilderness Heart does not quite live up to In the Future however. It lacks the overall creativity of the previous album and it lacks the heavy hitter like ‘Stormy High’ was back in 2008 for the band.

For older fans Wilderness Heart is a good follow-up to In the Future, even if it can’t quite match it. If you like your rock and want something new then the L.P provides an excellent opportunity to become acquainted with a band that are continuing to make something exciting out of a sound that, because of its popularity, often proves resistant to change.

The Thermals - Personal Life

The Thermals have dealt with their fair share of heavy topics in their time. The kind of things thrashed out in the minds of all the greats; Hobbes, Locke, Machiavelli, Marx and Hicks – Bill Hicks that is. Yep, the discography of The Thermals is starting to look like something that could run as a soundtrack for the sets of the late Hicks as they, like him, have sceptically grappled with politics, war and religion as touchstones for their art. 2006’s The Body, The Blood, The Machine saw the Portland trio craft an image of a Christian totalitarian state that had to be escaped from; a theme that for many chimed well with the moralising of the late Bush era. But now that The Thermals find themselves in the liberal paradise that is Obama’s America they decide with their latest record, Personal Life, to write an album about that, at least theoretically, apolitical topic; love.

Opening track ‘I’m Gonna Change Your Life’ exemplifies this. Hutch Harris excitedly tells an unnamed love in the chorus of how “I wanna know your feelings” and “I wanna know your secrets”. The band deal with both sides of the relationship coin and tracks like ‘Alone, A Fool’ see lines such as, “When I’m by myself, you’re with someone else. I’m a fool”.  As a theme it works well for the band. Obviously love and relationships are something done by almost every band on the planet at some point but Harris’s lyrics are sensitive and well-written. It’s welcome to see a softer side of the trio and the lyrical content of Personal Life’s is something everyone can associate with themselves.

The problem with Personal Life is not lyrical but musical. The record lacks the overall punchiness that the band have developed over the years and some tracks are left underwhelming as a result.  Take the opener, ‘I’m Gonna Change Your Life’, a slow track with progressive strumming that doesn’t really build up to anything and is left as a bit of an oddity. The next two tracks, ‘I Don’t Believe You’ and ‘Never Listen To Me’, are better; they are louder, more interesting and generally sound more like Thermals songs.

Later on in the album, ‘A Reflection’ seems to suffer from a similar sense of a lack of gravitas. An ending featuring prolonged feedback in a song usually follows a crescendo of some sort. Not so here – the song more or less limps into it and then moves on to the album’s finishing track, ‘You Changed My Life’; a good song with a great guitar riff throughout. Old fans will enjoy the trademark Thermals ‘Ooh ah ooh ah oohs’ found on a couple tracks such as ‘Your Love Is So Strong’. Unfortunately there’s not enough of these kind of exciting pop-punk moments that the band are usually capable of elsewhere.

Artists should never be criticised for changing their musical style or for experimenting, but The Thermals are not doing that here. Though enjoyable in places – and it does get better with subsequent listens – Personal Life is a record that is attempting to pick off where Now We Can See left off but instead turns out to be a somewhat forgettable experience.