Broken Records’ debut album – released after well over a year of steadily building buzz, with critics clamouring to claim bragging rights on breaking “the new Arcade Fire/Beirut/whoever” first – is an opinion-splitter like few before it. It’s a wonderfully realised celebration of musicianship, of compositional ambition and impassioned commitment to an artistic cause; but, equally, it’s a bit much at times.
The Edinburgh septet rightly took their time in bringing ‘Until The Earth Begins To Part’ to completion – a rough-edged EP of 2007 sparked a flurry of interest, and nobody would have thought the band rash if they’d looked to capitalise on this attention and deliver an album of similarly raw material. Most would have done just that: strike while the proverbial iron was hot, and make the absolute most of what looked like A Good Thing; but Broken Records wisely waited until they knew they were capable of creating A Great Thing.
And, at times, that’s precisely what this album is: a wonderfully enveloping statement of orchestral intent, rich of layers and detailed of design. It is, frequently, great. The opener, ‘Nearly Home’, sets a dramatic tone: marching percussion stomping out an incessant beat beneath driving strings and frontman Jamie Sutherland’s never-less-than-everything vocals; ‘A Good Reason’ combines Wild West barn dance dynamics with a shanty for lost-at-sea explorers, all blustering melodies and vitriol-laced lyricism; and ‘If Eilert Loevborg Wrote A Song It Would Sound Like This’ is the closest anyone will ever come to capturing the sound of Zach Condon conducting an orchestra made up of members of Explosions In The Sky, Do Make Say Think and a bunch of Italian film-scorers. And, if we’re honest, The Levellers. But at their very least annoying. The title track, meanwhile, is arresting in its open-hearted sincerity and introspective elegance.
And there are plenty more highlights scattered liberally across this ten-track collection – fans from the group’s early releases will recognise their share of songs, but each has been breathed new life by ‘proper’ production attention. However, it’s this varnish that does, sometimes, threaten to suffocate the soul that shined through so superbly before. In Sutherland Broken Records have a true force of nature up front, a vocalist so very in the moment every moment that he dominates the mix whenever uttering forth his piece; but without him leading from the front, the music does find itself meandering on occasions, no one instrument rising from straight-line mastering that doesn’t quite do justice to the expression on display.
And this takes us back to that ‘bit much’ comment: unless you, too, are with Sutherland and company, the onslaught of certain arrangements, with so many constituent elements battling on just a single, small field, can feel completely overpowering; listening without focus will either entice, nuances capturing the attention on just a cursory play-through, or wholly alienate due to the cacophonous confrontation presented by particular cuts. One hopes that newcomers to the band will take a little time to explore each song, such are the myriad dimensions at play; but the realist concludes with ease that few will actually make such a commitment.
Not that such a criticism – if you even deem it one – can detract from the impression this album leaves on an individual who’s been partial to the output of Broken Records since that EP, encompassing a couple of limited-run seven-inches: to these ears ‘Until…’ stands proud as one of the most brilliantly realised debuts of 2009, an album that collects its makers’ greatest arrangements to date and compiles them in an ordering that encourages complete-play digestion. They’re more than a sonic match for tumultuous countrymen The Twilight Sad, and there’s depth enough to Sutherland’s lyricism to appeal to those with a penchant for inspired wordplay. And, excitingly, this is probably just the tip of the iceberg, so to speak: the first sighting of a collective talent that extends far into the dark, full of brilliant potential. These songs are, to their authors, old; already sights must be set on the Next.
But, still, something slightly nags, and it’s a feeling that stems from the expectation that’s weighed heavy ever since that EP. ‘Until…’ isn’t the perfect statement a fan would have hoped for. But, perversely, perhaps that makes it perfect, for it opens the door to greater opportunities and grander dreams: as a foundation from which to build, this is a magnificently solid affair.
Time will tell, and you can bet that Broken Records are unlikely to unnecessarily rush themselves into next-step action purely to appease a sure-to-expand audience.
8/10