Wednesday, April 2, 2014

The Broken Broadcast "How Not To Cut A Buffalo"

NOTE: This review was originally published on 2/23/14 at KOVL's Facebook page

Folk-rock has been making some waves the last few years, thanks in part to Mumford & Sons and The Lumineers. Artists with a similar musical style can quickly gain labels of “copycat”, “derivative”, and “following a fad.” That phenomenon has been going on for decades, in all genres. It’s played out, and unimaginative, ironically kept alive by unimaginative people who would rather just criticize than expand their musical horizons. Just because a band may sound similar to another group that’s gained more popularity, or paved the way within a genre, doesn’t mean they have nothing worthwhile to offer.

This brings me to the UK’s The Broken Broadcast. Together since 2009, they’re easily identifiable as a folk-rock sound. And maybe nothing off 2013’s “How Not To Cut A Buffalo” is instantly as catchy as “I Will Wait” or “Ho Hey”. But if you like the aforementioned groups or songs, this is music you’d enjoy listening to. Just the album title should be enough to gain a cursory listening. Once into the album, it’s obvious that James Riggall has a smoother voice than Marcus Mumford. Raspy voices absolutely work in music, but vocal tones that aren’t rough around the edges are always appreciated. The songs themselves are a mix of mid-tempo and slower songs that you tend to see in this field, kicked off in earnest by “This Is My Wilderness”, driven by a steady bass drum beat that never threatens to get “in your face” and overwhelm the rest of the instruments, or the vocals.

That speaks well of the production and mixing, which is solid throughout. Very few tricks are utilized, and the band sounds better for it. An echo effect on the vocals of “We’re Just Waiting For Our Friends” is the most prominent example, and it doesn’t seem out of place. Even though there are the traditional breaks between songs, sometimes the breaks are so quick and smooth that you aren’t entirely sure you’re hearing two separate songs. “Interlude And Hope” into “Le Loup” is the most notable of those. “Interlude”, in fact, seems like a song in progress. It clocks in at 1:53 and is an instrumental, and it’s very pleasant for the time it lasts. But it also gives a sense that it’s begging to be expanded, that there’s a longer song beneath the surface. Maybe in The Broken Broadcast’s live shows, it gets drawn out into something longer, allowing all the players a greater opportunity to shine. But the released version feels like an introduction to “Le Loup”, and “Interlude” could be shortchanged because of it.

In part, “Interlude” also speaks to the biggest issue I have with the album. The entire album is roughly 38 minutes long. A sub-two-minute instrumental, on its own, has a place in even that short a time span. The opening cut, “A Prelude, An Introduction” is harmless at only 29 seconds, with the feel of two trumpeters warming up over xylophone chords. And the final 2:20 of the closing track, “Everything That’s Mine Is Yours” is the sound of light waves washing up on a beach. The effect, in isolation, is fine. People use the sound, or something similar, to help themselves fall asleep. It does bring visions of the beach and warm weather, and those visions are quite welcome during a Minnesota winter. But combine all three of them and of the 38-minute runtime, close to 5 of those minutes are spent on moments that seem to lack purpose or, as previously stated about “Interlude”, feel incomplete. That’s not an insignificant amount.

But it doesn’t overshadow all the good about the album. Very few albums are perfect, after all. The musicians are obviously talented, and they subscribe to a lo-fi sound, as I’ve seen it written elsewhere, which doesn’t assault your senses with unnecessary filler sounds. It’s easy to see how they gained underground traction in their native country, going back to 2010, within their first year as a band. The music may not push you through a challenging workout or a difficult run, but it’s not meant to. It’s relaxing, soothing, pleasant, and a worthy alternative to the mainstream bands of the genre.

Final rating: 3.8 out of 5 (revised from 3.5 on 3/8/14 after deciding to use increments of .1 instead of .5)

Download “How Not To Cut A Buffalo” from iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/how-not-to-cut-a-buffalo/id675065204



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