Review Summary: The unexpected soundtrack of a greedy voyage through outer space.
For those of you who don't know, it is surprisingly simple: Broken Bells is the collaborative project of two veterans - James Mercer and Brian Burton. The two of them released the self-titled debut in 2010, causing an immediate uproar. Needless to say, that was probably because the album is a beast in creation and atmosphere. Mercer and Burton both come from different backgrounds in the music industry, nonetheless what seemed an unlikely fusion became an outright pleasing sonic experience.
They're back now, and those of you who are afraid or perhaps cautious of the continued work, rest assured: the sophomore is nothing less than creativity meets expertise. There is surely a lot of new stuff here, as the band went a little experimental, but much of what can be felt in Broken Bells is also present in After The Disco. The band released a series of music videos late last year, both as an intro to what their new stuff would sound like and as a means for Danger Mouse to externalize his endeavors relating to creative writing. He succeed at that, once again, which raised hopes up high for the upcoming material. But besides that, it raised a question: could it be that After The Disco would delve into sci-fi musicianship, whatever that is?
James Mercer and Danger Mouse, far from being ingenuous, as evidenced in many of the songs' lyrics, have written and produced their most aesthetically effective work. Now, the answer to the former question is yes. The new album has a sci-fi feel about it, a looming starry light that shines conveying optimism as it hides tragedy.
Opener Perfect World is a herald that entails the content of the whole album: the guitar-solo bridges the song with a dreamy backup of electronic assets, approaching an end that is everything but satisfying, for it leaves you hungry. And hunger gets a hold of the listener as the album progresses; and at times it mesmerizes them, with synth clogged melodies. The intro song, once again, sums up the album quite nicely: it rings of emptiness and melancholy, albeit with a grain of salt, for Mercer is ever-hopeful as he sings "I thought love would always find a way/It's a perfect world all the same". And he continues to be so, as he canalizes all of his vocal abilities in an effort to both sway and tease you throughout the album.
The imaginary the band is apparently trying to surround themselves, with the duo being conveniently painted as spacesuit-clothed deceivers, is adequate. It is as inviting as it could be, and in the context of the album the listener is forced to surrender to that invitation: Mercer's crooning is irresistible in The Angel And The Fool, being backed by some faint dubstep sound effects and colored strings. Soothing as it is, it parallels powerful Leave It Alone, where Mercer alternates between crooning and his falsetto to build space to multi-part choruses, and as Danger Mouse, more sweet-tempered, crafts a somewhat dizzy, somewhat translucent atmosphere. It is a means to an end, encompassing emotions that range from relief to apprehension.
The album has equal parts of stillness and rocking-out moments, as highlighted by The Changing Lights and No Matter What You're Told, respectively. The later has a Shins-esque feel clung to it, reminiscent of Oh, Inverted World, where James is pleased to rock-out in the most comfortable way possible "We'll blow all our chances thinking we know all the answers, and so it goes with all the changes, nothing changes no matter what you're told". Of course, there are also bluesy tinged melodies, such as Lazy Wonderland, where layered synths abound, and Control, where unpredictably the band arranges a meeting of horns and keyboards.
Yes, it is a 5/5. The album owns up to its title: After The Disco is all post-disco, blues stained, experimental sounds. The musicality of it is nothing but enchanting, even in weaker tracks like Medicine. It flows magnificently, alternating between loud and cool so that the listener is not overwhelmed with either. Call it a disco-opera effort, but that is neither well-defined nor fair. It outstretches the current pop/disco scenario, thrusting itself into forbidden space with experimental chords like it were the soundtrack of a dangerous, greedy voyage through asteroid belts. As such, its sound waves carry indefinitely through the cosmos, immortalizing this sophomore effort as the most adequately named track of the album, The Remains Of Rock And Roll, closes with "Can't you see me floating, forwards, backwards. Won't you lend a hand and help me out? Hear me on your doorstep, knocking knocking, won't you open up and help me out?".
