Broken Bells’ self-titled debut is one protracted science experiment. Like the unexpected product of two dissimilar ingredients — namely James Mercer, singer and guitarist for The Shins, and producer Brian Burton, aka Danger Mouse — the result of this collaboration contains only vague traces of the artists’ former musical identities.
And in Broken Bells’ laboratory, the combined product of these two heavyweights proves a revelatory concoction.
From the first track, Broken Bells asserts its ability to craft a crescendo. “The High Road” rides a pulsing tempo, buoyed by the effortless cool of cymbals and snare drums. Like the majority of the album, the song builds gradually until it reaches a convulsive peak, a collision of Mercer’s fevered vocals and increasingly epic instrumentation.
Music Review
Broken Bells
Broken Bells
Dive verdict: 4 of 5 stars
Leave it to Mercer and Burton to ease into these manic, climactic swells without abandoning the effortless cool both have come to personify. The album’s appeal stems primarily from the subtlety and nuance with which Broken Bells has approached this set of electronic pop. Mercer’s lyrics are breathy and confessional, and he checks The Shins’ paranoia at the door. They sound particularly wistful alongside the swell of Burton’s throbbing melodies, which fuse sweeping instrumentals with throbbing beats.
But despite the change in atmosphere, Mercer’s voice remains indelibly tied to his previous work. Sure, it isn’t the same soft musing that he offers The Shins, but his distinctive pronunciation and tidy falsetto leaves a well-known taste in any indie aficionado’s mouth.
“Your Head is On Fire” exemplifies the departure both musicians have taken from previous projects. With its synth-filled, ‘60s decadence, the song relies primarily on an old-school progression of chords and a plodding beat. The minimal vocals — which deal with the interplay of light and dark, both literally and metaphorically — are a welcome respite, and the lush instrumentation and ambient noise envelop the listener in sound. Despite the track’s name, it’s a refreshing pause from the rest of the album’s headiness.
The album’s intrigue stems largely from its artful balance of influences. “Sailing to Nowhere” blends accessible Beatles-esque pop with a drum line that could have been pulled from a jazz nightclub, and even mid-song, Broken Bells has no fear of shifting gears. Tempos change frequently, vocals plummet low and spring back to falsetto, and still the band maintains a sense of coherence.
It’s a testament to these artists’ chemistry, the driving force that keeps Broken Bells’ debut from incongruence. It might have been difficult to predict a collaboration between these two heavyweights, but as this album proves, unlikely equations often have staggering rewards.
Contact the Diversions Editor at dive@unc.edu.
