It’s art-rock time with The Blue Aeroplanes again. The ‘Planes first appeared on the indie scene in the 90’s – a spirited collective of musicians (and I seem to recall, a dancer who came across as a posh Bez) creating soundtracks over which poet Gerard Langley chanted and almost-sang his spiked, left-field lyrics.
And while this may all sound like a geeky Happy Mondays, there was a verve and ambition to it all that earned them both critical acclaim and modest commercial success.
After the re-release of their triumphant early album ‘Swagger’ in January this year, the band have regrouped to produce a new work ‘Altitude’ an album that retains the energy and the literate yet offbeat approach to songwriting of their previous work. Titles like ‘Hexanal’ (the chemical which apparently replicates the smell of new mown grass); ‘Bristol Byzantine’ and ‘Bright Star Catalogue’ signal the band’s aspirations to something beyond the norm, and yet… musically (and even lyrically) there is much here that is conventional, even pedestrian, indie rock. And here’s the rub, guys…this album will stand or fall depending on whether you can stomach Langley’s vocal performances, and personally I can’t, I really can’t, and so perhaps readers should read the rest of the review with this in mind.
For me, the problem with the album is best summed-up on second track ‘Tree Full of Starlings’. This is a slight departure from the pedal-to-the-floor indie guitar of much of the rest of the album, with fiddles and brushes weaving through some sweet, languorous chords. A guest vocalist provides backing on the choruses with an achingly beautiful voice reminiscent of Mazzy Star or some forlorn and forgotten country singer. And across all of this, like a scribble through a watercolour, is Langley’s spoken vocal – arch, irritating, occasionally attempting melody but mostly content to grind along, emoting now and again like William Shatner doing Arctic Monkeys. (Actually, William Shatner doing Arctic Monkeys would be f****** cool! ‘I bet YOU… look good….onthedancefloor’)
On the plus side, the large number of musicians passing through this album and the oblique nature of some of the lyrics mean that despite previous criticisms, the album is textured and driven and could reward repeat listening.
The music circumnavigates mainstream indie styles: Raise the Roof High is like Primal Scream circa ‘Give Out But Don’t Give Up’ and ‘Surreal Thing’ which seems to be some kind of tongue in cheek spy narrative set to a rock work out a la The Music.
At the end of the day, the occasional banality of music and lyrics is offset by moments of interest and the overall spirit of a band returning from exile to create another album that refuses to fit into the increasingly rigid templates demanded from guitar bands these days. Unfortunately for me, the effect of Langley’s vocals over some decent music is like trying to watch an interesting film at the cinema and having Peter Crouch sit in front of you.