If a second album is often deemed as difficult, with
Broadcast, it started right from their first. Three
years in the making, following problems with producers,
The Noise Made By
People finally came out in 2000, almost four
years after the band released their first single.
Formed in 1995 in Birmingham by Trisha Keenan, James
Cargill, Tim Felton and Roj Stevens, Broadcast rapidly
got associated with Stereolab
and Pram, mostly due
to their use of analogue synthesisers and their take
on experimental pop. The band’s first single,
Accidentals, was released a couple of years
later on Wurlitzer Jukebox, with the subsequent two,
Living Room and The Book Lovers, being
released that same year on Duophonic Super 45s. Signed
by Warp shortly after, the three EPs were collected
on Work & Non-Work. On The
Noise Made By People, Broadcast seemed to leave
behind the unsettling atmospheres of their previous
EPs to focus on tight, well written pop songs, albeit
their influences, firmly set in the psychedelic area
of early electronic experimentation – they name
the Velvet Underground and the unique album by The United
States Of America as main influences – still showed
much leftfield attitude. Songs such as Unchanging
Window, Come On Let’s Go or Look
Outside especially demonstrated a great maturity
in term of finely balancing uncompromising sonic treatment
and beautiful melodies. More consistent than Work
& Non-Work, this first proper album, and the
live performances that followed, established the band
as one of the most interesting British acts around.
Mostly recorded at Cargill’s house towards the
end of last year, Haha Sound arrives hot on
the heels of Pendulum, first EP in two and
a half years, and a string of live dates in the USA
and Europe. On this album, the band, now a trio following
the departure of Roj Stevens in 2002, continue to expand
on their sound, bringing more ambient noises into the
naïve melodic scope and destabilising further their
perversely innocent songs. The album opens with the
short and poetic Colour Me In, on which Trish’s
voice appear as bitter-sweet as ever on a bed of old-fashioned
electronic noises, before heading down to business with
the magnificent Pendulum, already held by some
as one of their best songs to date. With a distinctive
mid-to-late sixties experimental feel to it, it is actually
one of the most straightforward songs produced by Broadcast
so far. Relying more and more on cinematographic references,
the band’s inspiration for Valerie is
partly to be found in the little known Czech horror
/ fairytale film Valerie And Her Week Of Wonders.
The lullaby-like melody progresses over soft guitars,
defying the threatening underlying noises growing in
the background. Alternating between songs and a few
instrumentals strategically placed, Haha Sound
appears more spontaneous and lighter than its predecessor.
if the difficulties encountered during the recording
of The Noise…
affected the atmosphere of the album, this new opus
benefits of an easier process. The melodies seem simpler
and less contrived, and despite the more complex soundscapes
developed here, the resulting general mood of this record
is definitely less tormented. Songs such as Before
We Begin, Lunch Hour Pops or Ominous
Clouds are precious little pop jewels, beautifully
served by Keenan’s falsely innocent lyrics and
nonchalant vocals, while The Little Bell, one
of the most disarmingly charming moments on this album,
echoes the poetic touch of Colour Me In. On
Minim, Black Umbrellas or Oh How
I Miss You, the Broadcast of the early days filters
through once more, reminding that if the band might
have progressed enormously since, they are still very
much in touch with their origins.
Broadcast’s sophisticated vision of pop music
is not as elitist as it may seem. Fruit of a much less
complicated creative process, Haha Sound is
far more opened and airy than its predecessor, demonstrating
that Broadcast can also have some fun.
4.8/5 |
