Review Summary: The Antlers expand their sound, but lose some of the emotion that gave Hospice such a cult following. Something’s got to give…
How do you follow up an album that was successful based mostly upon its emotional appeal? After all, you can’t force emotional sincerity - it is either present or it isn’t, and the relationships that fans form with an album are beyond any band’s control. All they can do is release heartfelt music and hope that it means something to those who hear it. 2009’s
Hospice was a case in point, as fans flocked to its tragic storyline, its lush sound, and Peter Silberman’s perfectly haunting vocals. Yes, it was musically adept and yes, there was a lot to like about the album from a musical perspective; however, it was the brutally real, heartbreaking lyrics expressed through Silberman’s voice that drove
Hospice deep into the hearts of listeners (where it will probably stay for a very long time, if not forever). That brings us to The Antlers’ fourth LP and follow-up effort,
Burst Apart.
In no way, shape, or form does
Burst Apart live up to the emotional significance of
Hospice. It is unclear whether or not that was the band’s intention, however, and they still manage to introduce some fresh styles and new directions to ensure that
Burst Apart packs a punch of its own. One might compare The Antlers’ evolution to that of Sam Beam’s (of Iron & Wine), as he too transitioned from a lyric/emotion-heavy style to one that was more sonically varied on
Kiss Each Other Clean. The result in both cases is a rich, more instrumentally diverse sound that is a smooth and satisfying listen, but lacks a certain intangible emotion that listeners have come to rely on. Here, The Antlers really come together as a band, and their growth is nearly as substantial as the profound emotional impact found on
Hospice.
It is obvious from the get-go that
Burst Apart is in an entirely different vein, with the sparkling, up-tempo sound of ‘I Don’t Want Love’, which is propelled by the combination of glittery guitars, spacey drumming, and dynamic keys. Silberman’s falsetto still
more than gets the job done, and it is often even the peak of the song….however, he is no longer the main catalyst moving The Antlers forward, as that responsibility is now far more evenly distributed amongst the trio of musicians. ‘Parentheses’ takes charge with a guitar-driven, rock-oriented sound that is almost impossible not to evoke some form of leg/foot movement from listeners, and this comes after the ambient, chill sounding ‘French Exit’ – another essential track from
Burst Apart. The record then delves into a wide variety of atmospheres, from the lazed falsetto humming in ‘Rolled Together’ to the centerpiece of the album’s middle section - the bouncy but murky ‘Every Night My Teeth Are Falling Out.’ As a whole, things progress quite nicely; ‘Hounds’ flows hypnotically in a fashion true to
Hospice, ‘Corsicana’ puts the keyboards on full display, and ‘Putting the Dog to Sleep’ reminds us that The Antlers can vary their mood, sound more straight-forward, and still blow us away.
So when all is said and done, there is a lot for Antlers fans to get excited about on
Burst Apart. It isn’t the next
Hospice, and it is a far cry from that album emotionally (and probably also lyrically)…however, the Antlers have shown that they know the answer to our riddle. How do you follow up an album that was successful based mostly upon its emotional appeal? Well if you can’t match that sound,
change it. Here, they do a splendid job of gelling as a band and sharing responsibilities, and
Burst Apart is much better off for it. A rehashed and insincere
Hospice would have yielded disappointing - potentially disastrous – results. Thankfully, this is a band that takes the high road, even if it isn’t the easiest path to walk.
