Youthful Potential Lost at Sea

Is it right to call indie rock band British Sea Power ambitious, or are they just weird? For 10 years, the esoteric band has been praised with reservations for its arcane lyrics and flamboyant performances. In promoting the band’s latest album, “Machineries of Joy,” the lead vocalist, who simply goes by “Yan,” promised more of the same, remarking, “Various things are touched on in the words—Franciscan monks, ketamine, French female bodybuilders turned erotic movie stars.” With this assertion, Yan set up the release to either be fascinating or vaguely disappointing. In the end, “Machineries of Joy” seems to head in the opposite direction of British Sea Power’s positive reputation, as they struggle to keep up with their own opacity.

“Machineries of Joy” is not without its moments of clarity. “Loving Animals” is refreshingly catchy and well written. Bristly guitars and a simplistic drum pattern drive the verse, which providing an effective complement to the wispy, yearning vocals of the chorus. The eerie and chaotic final two-minute section of the track is the album’s first shining moment, proving that British Sea Power sound best when they experiment to their strengths.

The band once again uses unconventional composition to their advantage on the strongest track, “Monsters of Sunderland,” which opens with a trumpet fanfare that quickly turns into an almost-funky garage-pop groove. The track comes together intricately, featuring a short vocal, trumpet, and bass trio that expands into the fiery and charged outro. British Sea Power can write a catchy rock song that demands the listener’s attention, and accordingly, “Machineries of Joy” features several diamonds in the rough—but unfortunately, the “rough” refers to the rest of the album.

Ultimately, a few promising tracks can’t save “Machineries of Joy” from mediocrity. The album opens weakly with its title track, which underperforms both in lyricism and composition. Instead of cultivating the riskier sound of their stronger songs, British Sea Power immediately introduce a sound that has almost become pedestrian among today’s plethora of indie rock bands: a simple drum pattern adorned with wobbly, broken guitar chords. Perhaps the most disappointing aspect of the opener, however, is its uninspired chorus. British Sea Power’s usually opaque lyrics are also cast aside in favor of the more direct, lackluster repetition of “We are magnificent machineries of joy.”

Unfortunately, the most fitting way to describe the remainder of “Machineries of Joy” is as a cliché of indie rock. Yan sounds like a more mediocre version of Arctic Monkey’s Alex Turner at his worst on “What You Need The Most,” a track that is weighed down by unimaginative composition and tired instrumentation. The slowly unraveling waltz features nearly six minutes of repetitive arpeggios, outlining the same few chords as Yan sleepily describes the beauty of broken love.

The second half of the album is similarly pedestrian. “Spring Has Sprung” begins as an uninspired description of spring (“birdsong sings in the atmosphere / spring has sprung out of nothing”), and eventually evolves so that the season’s arrival is compared to a lover in a similarly trite and lifeless fashion (“And that is why you don’t get old / you take your time, you take it slow, skipping and playing in the mud”). The most unique track of the final four is the closing “When A Warm Wind Blows Through The Grass,” which deserves some credit for its evocative aural texture, but it ultimately ends up sounding like an unfinished idea rather than an independent track or an effective conclusion.

It seems ill-fitting that a band known for peppering its lyrics with obscure references could be critiqued for being too  blasé in its delivery, but if British Sea Power were aiming to be simplistic and profound, they’ve succeeded too much in the former and not nearly enough in the latter. The inadequacies of “Machineries of Joy” are perhaps amplified in light of the fact that this is British Sea Power’s sixth full-length studio release—although their earlier releases were interpreted as potential, their latest must be met with skepticism and a cocked eyebrow as it starts to become unclear whether or not they will ever develop on their raw skill. One of the biggest risks to a band known for its esotericism is that its greatest strength can quickly turn into vapidity. Although—as always—British Sea Power have displayed their potential, they once again fail to explore it and to release an album that truly uses their talents to the fullest. Until they do so, they will remain victims to their own inaccessibility.

—Staff writer Se-Ho Kim can be reached at sehokim@college.harvard.edu.