Album Review: Broadcast, Tender Buttons (Warp, September 20, 2005)
finally, i review Tender Buttons:
Two years ago, it seems the world was coming down off a certain retro high, started long ago in the mid 90's with bands that will go un-named. And lurching onward into new territory, that ultimately would also yield a retro high, just of a different nature. Pop culture is constantly reinventing itself(the mark of greatness I'd add), which doesn't always mean something, or anything, new. Just different. I want you to reach back in time with me, to an America gripped by Austin Power's Internal Man of Mystery. Remember that soundtrack? Well, I do. And I owned it. At the time, not because of "The Book Lovers", I was too young to really understand the beauty found therein. But, now that I no longer know where that soundtrack is, and it has been trumped by Work and Non-Work, I find myself realizing that songs like that are really what define movements. Broadcast has a long list of these: "Come On Let's Go," "Papercuts," "Still Feels Like Tears," "Illumination," "Long Was the Year," "Unchanging Window - Chord Simple," "Echo's Answer," "Colour Me In," "Before We Begin," "Valerie"... Really, all of Haha Sound, if you ask me. It was the defining moment of Broadcast's career, so far. With 2003's musical pinnacle, the best album to come out of that year, and perhaps the 21st century so far, Broadcast effectively moved beyond the comparisons that even still are tiresome - Stereolab, Pram... C'mon. Really. Broadcast themselves have always said that these comparisons are the work of lazy critics who don't delve deep enough into their musical knowledge to understand that Broadcast gather their vast, and well researched, musical influence from cinemascapes and obscure jazz artists - yes, usually from the '60's. But, let's shy away from that pigeonhole, because as the follow up EP's to The Noise Made By People and HaHa Sound, we can clearly see that while Broadcast garners affection by the more modern hippies of today, they are out of this world, and way before their time.
Having hopefully established my extreme wonderlust for HaHa Sound, let me move on to the task at hand: carefully dissecting each and every note, and misstep, of Tender Buttons. On first listen, I felt I had come across an imcomplete album - you know, one of those famous leaks, along the vein of Radiohead's Hail to the Thief, or perhaps not as noteworthy, Beck's leaked Guero. I found a nice collection of songs, but sorely lacking in something. I was put off by the not so small difference in sound Broadcast now had minus the now nameless and faceless guitarist and the ever changing, and therefore pointless to name, drummer. After listening through the entire thing for the first time, I was appalled that the only track that featured live drums was the opener. Perhaps this is a holdover emotion from HaHa Sound, but those live drums, recorded in that church across the street from James' home, are what popped. They're the silvery sparkle that added the movement, the bluntness and stark contrast to the past albums. However, believing more in Trish and James than any man or woman before them, I decided to tweak the sound quality of the files I fished out of the vast space between me and them.
Here, I began to pinpoint various sounds now standard to Broadcast's dissonant and caucauphonous textures - the slams, the fuzz, the reverby analog synths, the out of tune everything. On opener, "I Found the F," we are greeted by the first bit of theme that binds Tender Buttons together. That dissonant analog synth theme, greeted by the very vintage Broadcast guitar part, then completed with the ultra-60's throwback drums. It is that beautifully dissonant synth part that keeps the track moving. Not to mention Trish's detached but affective vocals. They seem to weave in and out of the synth, as though adhering the guitar, drums, and synth together. Track number two, "Black Cat," reveals yet another theme - the perhaps over used bouncing bassline provided here by a synth, and not James' ultra-hip bass work. However, the sheer noise provided here by the duo makes up for the lack of musical originality. It is surprising to me that nobody has commented on the cinematic quality of this song as of yet. "Curioser, and curioser." A line from Through The Looking Glass, or, Alice in Wonderland. The bridge to the chorus, "Awkwardness happening to someone you love..." further cements this flight of fancy song, a fantastic journey through child-hood stories. The electronic drum beat beneath the song could be louder if it wanted to, but I like how it stays almost hidden behind Trish and James' exploration in their new sound. Here, I will say that I begin to understand something about this album already. While HaHa Sound was literally built around those amazing drums, Broadcast as a duo have begun crafting songs built around melodies again. So it only makes sense to have something as understated as a bleak and poignantly blunt blip through a drumpad as backup. "Tender Buttons," the title track, moves on to further adapt into their new sound. With as little reverb as I think we've witnessed from Broadcast so far, we are greeted by a strong guitar part that recalls drug induced summer nights at a 60's commune. It's all flower dresses and hash pipes here. It is not difficult to imagine Trish standing on stage, backed by abstract colours and images projected onto a blank wall behind her, as James bangs out the guitar part and perhaps some unknown keyboardist as of yet drones out the beautifully fucked up and distorted synth part. It is, however, a standard point of view at a Broadcast show - which perhaps makes it wonderful in it's own right. If you've seen Broadcast live, you'd know. "American Boy," the album's first single, and perhaps the most overtly pop this album has offered yet, begins with a familiar and cliche drum beat provided by the very same drum machine we're starting to get accustomed to. But, in glorious fashion, we have been provided with a bit of noise - "Colour Me In" style - over that same bouncing bassline. Crashes. Blips. Brilliant pink noise behind Trish's understated vocals about that manly soldier. The rhythm moves in and out, and Trish sings to herself as though no other. While the noise could be a bit more, the reduction in abstract sound offers what Broadcast has always strived for - a perfectly crafted pop song. Perhaps the most bare song Broadcast has ever produced, "Tears in the Typing Pool" may be their most effective. Backed by nothing but an acoustic guitar strumming the same four or five chords over and over and distorted flute(which I assume to be not a flute at all, but perhaps an organ of some sort), Trish sings of a race which is ending, but not over. "The patchwork explains / the land is unchanged." She effortlessly sings the melody here and harmonizes with herself as though it should always be that way. She seems to sigh the melody in earnest. The song has already popped up on various psych-folk playlists, and it is clear why. It is the first song that grabs my attention, as it is such a huge departure for Broadcast. What may be the standout track of the album, "Corporeal," offers us some of the same basswork that made HaHa Sound and The Noise Made By People so fantastic. We are greeted with some minimal synth in the beginning playing a dissonant, but in key, simple line. While James' repetitive and entrancing bassline weaves a winding path for Trish to croon to us from as she wanders down. "Under the white chalk / drawn on the blackboard / Under the x-ray / i'm just a vertebrate / Do that to me / do that to my anatomy / corporeal..." With lyrics overtly sexual as that, it is no wonder that Trish sings corporeal almost sadly. As though losing something - and she is, an innocence of some sort, that we always had with the childlike lullabies and fairground gems of Broadcast before. There are plenty of background noises here, and the bridge is particularly fantastic, with the alteration of the melody and shift of vocal key. The vague presence of a playful melody in the background draws us into the song, though never quite enveloping us. Before, Broadcast has always delighted or jeered their audience with instrumental interludes. HaHa Sound's two instrumentals, "Black Umbrella's" and "Minim" were two very specifically experimental instrumentals that gave the band some grief from critics. They were, however, very important to that album. I do not believe they were unnecessary, and in fact, get enjoyment out of them. Their minimalist approach to the instrumental is significant in that they do so in an almost melodic and story-like way. And so, listening to the two instrumentals positioned in seemingly arbitrary locations on the tracklist here caused me particular pain. And so we'll discuss them together. "Bit 35" draws a direct comparison to Stereolab's Les Yper Yper Sound. But not so much you'd get them confused. Whereas the 'Lab provided us with a thumping, droning bass line, drumpad heavy beat and some robot-language-infused vocals sneaking here and there, Broadcast presents us with a boring and repetitive guitar bit backed by a duh-duh dot drum beat. The song has no crescendo, no middle, no end. And as abruptly as it starts, it ends. It took great objectiveness on my part to be able to allow myself the displeasure of realizing it's complete and total ineffectiveness. The other instrumental here is "Evil is Coming." A simple analog synth line, that comes as though night time falling in an 80's B-Movie. Had Kraftwerk used it, they'd have amped it up with some beating hearts and stormy musical imagery. Broadcast simply lets it plod along as it needlessly moves us into the second half of the album. But here, we're presented with another gem of the album - "Arc of a Journey" is perhaps the only track that represents past work in the vein of HaHa Sound. The rambling bassline repeats itself beautifully, seeming distant, but relevant. The synth line, though melodic, is also dissonant and distorted. Broadcast provide ample noise here - popping out of the background music with unexpected supplements to Trish's already beautiful laments about consternation. The atmospheric jazz-like xylophone adds a fullness to the song that drums could not, I'd wager. "Michael A Grammar" is a reference to something obscure - though I am not able to say what. Pitchfork explained it, and I swear I read it, but I forget. And that's why this song isn't one of my favourites. It is reminiscent of recent acts like The Strokes in that it aims to unify modern use of analog synths and 80's revival guitar work. It's fun to dance to - but the lyrics, for lack of a better word, suck. "My feet are dancing so much / and i hate that / my feet are dancing so much." Perhaps a more thorough understanding of the reference might yield a more positive attitude about this mainly single-oriented typical guitar pop song... but I doubt it. It yields nothing memorable at all. Unfortunately. Fortunately, it is followed by "Subject to the Ladder." More of the same guitar work here, but completely dissonant synth work in the background, as well as Trish's vaguely reminscent of Jefferson Starship-style vocals. This song could have gone on HaHa Sound quite easily, right after "Valerie," or "Before We Begin''s answer to "Pendulum." The worst part of Tender Buttons is that it is so rooted in overt pop songs, and after being blissfully brought back to space by "...Ladder," Broadcast offers "Goodbye Girls." Which honestly, is so much fun. The bassline here is provided by a synth, but it's gloriously distorted, in the same vein as Radiohead's "Myxomotosis". If you listen carefully, you'll hear the same distant guitar noises present in "Still Feels LIke Tears" from the Pendulum EP. Trish's vocals are fun and playful. It's just... pleasant. I hate to compare, really I do, but when Ladytron also unveils their new album in September, I wonder if they will want to adopt this track as their own. "You and Me In Time" brings us back down. Trish sings hauntingly overtop severely dissonant piano, while bleeps and fuzz fade in and out of the foreground, and jazz xylophone greets us like some beautiful memory trying not to be forgotten as Trish tries to revive that wooden clock that has a tick, but not a tock. When I was pondering the album's instrumentals, I decided not to include "I Found the End." That's exactly what it is. The end of the theme we found in "I Found the F," here presented by reverbed and warbled piano, repetitively playing the same downward spiral, as though Alice has finally fallen, and won't be coming back any time soon.
Overall, Broadcast finds themselves sorely missing the live drums, but seems to fit themselves into a new nitsche, where they most definitely are comfortable. Comfortably outside of lazy critic's comparisons, but comfortably within their own retro experiment. Though not always a winner, it's never a loser. Still cinematic. Still noisy. Still difficult to grasp. Still brilliant. Broadcast brilliantly allude to Gertrude Stein's 1914 book, Tender Buttons, which strived to ditch conventional grammer, meaning and syntax to convey simple "moments of consciousness", indenpendent of time and memory. As Stein says, "The change of color is likely and a difference a very little difference is prepared. Sugar is not a vegetable."
Two years ago, it seems the world was coming down off a certain retro high, started long ago in the mid 90's with bands that will go un-named. And lurching onward into new territory, that ultimately would also yield a retro high, just of a different nature. Pop culture is constantly reinventing itself(the mark of greatness I'd add), which doesn't always mean something, or anything, new. Just different. I want you to reach back in time with me, to an America gripped by Austin Power's Internal Man of Mystery. Remember that soundtrack? Well, I do. And I owned it. At the time, not because of "The Book Lovers", I was too young to really understand the beauty found therein. But, now that I no longer know where that soundtrack is, and it has been trumped by Work and Non-Work, I find myself realizing that songs like that are really what define movements. Broadcast has a long list of these: "Come On Let's Go," "Papercuts," "Still Feels Like Tears," "Illumination," "Long Was the Year," "Unchanging Window - Chord Simple," "Echo's Answer," "Colour Me In," "Before We Begin," "Valerie"... Really, all of Haha Sound, if you ask me. It was the defining moment of Broadcast's career, so far. With 2003's musical pinnacle, the best album to come out of that year, and perhaps the 21st century so far, Broadcast effectively moved beyond the comparisons that even still are tiresome - Stereolab, Pram... C'mon. Really. Broadcast themselves have always said that these comparisons are the work of lazy critics who don't delve deep enough into their musical knowledge to understand that Broadcast gather their vast, and well researched, musical influence from cinemascapes and obscure jazz artists - yes, usually from the '60's. But, let's shy away from that pigeonhole, because as the follow up EP's to The Noise Made By People and HaHa Sound, we can clearly see that while Broadcast garners affection by the more modern hippies of today, they are out of this world, and way before their time.
Having hopefully established my extreme wonderlust for HaHa Sound, let me move on to the task at hand: carefully dissecting each and every note, and misstep, of Tender Buttons. On first listen, I felt I had come across an imcomplete album - you know, one of those famous leaks, along the vein of Radiohead's Hail to the Thief, or perhaps not as noteworthy, Beck's leaked Guero. I found a nice collection of songs, but sorely lacking in something. I was put off by the not so small difference in sound Broadcast now had minus the now nameless and faceless guitarist and the ever changing, and therefore pointless to name, drummer. After listening through the entire thing for the first time, I was appalled that the only track that featured live drums was the opener. Perhaps this is a holdover emotion from HaHa Sound, but those live drums, recorded in that church across the street from James' home, are what popped. They're the silvery sparkle that added the movement, the bluntness and stark contrast to the past albums. However, believing more in Trish and James than any man or woman before them, I decided to tweak the sound quality of the files I fished out of the vast space between me and them.
Here, I began to pinpoint various sounds now standard to Broadcast's dissonant and caucauphonous textures - the slams, the fuzz, the reverby analog synths, the out of tune everything. On opener, "I Found the F," we are greeted by the first bit of theme that binds Tender Buttons together. That dissonant analog synth theme, greeted by the very vintage Broadcast guitar part, then completed with the ultra-60's throwback drums. It is that beautifully dissonant synth part that keeps the track moving. Not to mention Trish's detached but affective vocals. They seem to weave in and out of the synth, as though adhering the guitar, drums, and synth together. Track number two, "Black Cat," reveals yet another theme - the perhaps over used bouncing bassline provided here by a synth, and not James' ultra-hip bass work. However, the sheer noise provided here by the duo makes up for the lack of musical originality. It is surprising to me that nobody has commented on the cinematic quality of this song as of yet. "Curioser, and curioser." A line from Through The Looking Glass, or, Alice in Wonderland. The bridge to the chorus, "Awkwardness happening to someone you love..." further cements this flight of fancy song, a fantastic journey through child-hood stories. The electronic drum beat beneath the song could be louder if it wanted to, but I like how it stays almost hidden behind Trish and James' exploration in their new sound. Here, I will say that I begin to understand something about this album already. While HaHa Sound was literally built around those amazing drums, Broadcast as a duo have begun crafting songs built around melodies again. So it only makes sense to have something as understated as a bleak and poignantly blunt blip through a drumpad as backup. "Tender Buttons," the title track, moves on to further adapt into their new sound. With as little reverb as I think we've witnessed from Broadcast so far, we are greeted by a strong guitar part that recalls drug induced summer nights at a 60's commune. It's all flower dresses and hash pipes here. It is not difficult to imagine Trish standing on stage, backed by abstract colours and images projected onto a blank wall behind her, as James bangs out the guitar part and perhaps some unknown keyboardist as of yet drones out the beautifully fucked up and distorted synth part. It is, however, a standard point of view at a Broadcast show - which perhaps makes it wonderful in it's own right. If you've seen Broadcast live, you'd know. "American Boy," the album's first single, and perhaps the most overtly pop this album has offered yet, begins with a familiar and cliche drum beat provided by the very same drum machine we're starting to get accustomed to. But, in glorious fashion, we have been provided with a bit of noise - "Colour Me In" style - over that same bouncing bassline. Crashes. Blips. Brilliant pink noise behind Trish's understated vocals about that manly soldier. The rhythm moves in and out, and Trish sings to herself as though no other. While the noise could be a bit more, the reduction in abstract sound offers what Broadcast has always strived for - a perfectly crafted pop song. Perhaps the most bare song Broadcast has ever produced, "Tears in the Typing Pool" may be their most effective. Backed by nothing but an acoustic guitar strumming the same four or five chords over and over and distorted flute(which I assume to be not a flute at all, but perhaps an organ of some sort), Trish sings of a race which is ending, but not over. "The patchwork explains / the land is unchanged." She effortlessly sings the melody here and harmonizes with herself as though it should always be that way. She seems to sigh the melody in earnest. The song has already popped up on various psych-folk playlists, and it is clear why. It is the first song that grabs my attention, as it is such a huge departure for Broadcast. What may be the standout track of the album, "Corporeal," offers us some of the same basswork that made HaHa Sound and The Noise Made By People so fantastic. We are greeted with some minimal synth in the beginning playing a dissonant, but in key, simple line. While James' repetitive and entrancing bassline weaves a winding path for Trish to croon to us from as she wanders down. "Under the white chalk / drawn on the blackboard / Under the x-ray / i'm just a vertebrate / Do that to me / do that to my anatomy / corporeal..." With lyrics overtly sexual as that, it is no wonder that Trish sings corporeal almost sadly. As though losing something - and she is, an innocence of some sort, that we always had with the childlike lullabies and fairground gems of Broadcast before. There are plenty of background noises here, and the bridge is particularly fantastic, with the alteration of the melody and shift of vocal key. The vague presence of a playful melody in the background draws us into the song, though never quite enveloping us. Before, Broadcast has always delighted or jeered their audience with instrumental interludes. HaHa Sound's two instrumentals, "Black Umbrella's" and "Minim" were two very specifically experimental instrumentals that gave the band some grief from critics. They were, however, very important to that album. I do not believe they were unnecessary, and in fact, get enjoyment out of them. Their minimalist approach to the instrumental is significant in that they do so in an almost melodic and story-like way. And so, listening to the two instrumentals positioned in seemingly arbitrary locations on the tracklist here caused me particular pain. And so we'll discuss them together. "Bit 35" draws a direct comparison to Stereolab's Les Yper Yper Sound. But not so much you'd get them confused. Whereas the 'Lab provided us with a thumping, droning bass line, drumpad heavy beat and some robot-language-infused vocals sneaking here and there, Broadcast presents us with a boring and repetitive guitar bit backed by a duh-duh dot drum beat. The song has no crescendo, no middle, no end. And as abruptly as it starts, it ends. It took great objectiveness on my part to be able to allow myself the displeasure of realizing it's complete and total ineffectiveness. The other instrumental here is "Evil is Coming." A simple analog synth line, that comes as though night time falling in an 80's B-Movie. Had Kraftwerk used it, they'd have amped it up with some beating hearts and stormy musical imagery. Broadcast simply lets it plod along as it needlessly moves us into the second half of the album. But here, we're presented with another gem of the album - "Arc of a Journey" is perhaps the only track that represents past work in the vein of HaHa Sound. The rambling bassline repeats itself beautifully, seeming distant, but relevant. The synth line, though melodic, is also dissonant and distorted. Broadcast provide ample noise here - popping out of the background music with unexpected supplements to Trish's already beautiful laments about consternation. The atmospheric jazz-like xylophone adds a fullness to the song that drums could not, I'd wager. "Michael A Grammar" is a reference to something obscure - though I am not able to say what. Pitchfork explained it, and I swear I read it, but I forget. And that's why this song isn't one of my favourites. It is reminiscent of recent acts like The Strokes in that it aims to unify modern use of analog synths and 80's revival guitar work. It's fun to dance to - but the lyrics, for lack of a better word, suck. "My feet are dancing so much / and i hate that / my feet are dancing so much." Perhaps a more thorough understanding of the reference might yield a more positive attitude about this mainly single-oriented typical guitar pop song... but I doubt it. It yields nothing memorable at all. Unfortunately. Fortunately, it is followed by "Subject to the Ladder." More of the same guitar work here, but completely dissonant synth work in the background, as well as Trish's vaguely reminscent of Jefferson Starship-style vocals. This song could have gone on HaHa Sound quite easily, right after "Valerie," or "Before We Begin''s answer to "Pendulum." The worst part of Tender Buttons is that it is so rooted in overt pop songs, and after being blissfully brought back to space by "...Ladder," Broadcast offers "Goodbye Girls." Which honestly, is so much fun. The bassline here is provided by a synth, but it's gloriously distorted, in the same vein as Radiohead's "Myxomotosis". If you listen carefully, you'll hear the same distant guitar noises present in "Still Feels LIke Tears" from the Pendulum EP. Trish's vocals are fun and playful. It's just... pleasant. I hate to compare, really I do, but when Ladytron also unveils their new album in September, I wonder if they will want to adopt this track as their own. "You and Me In Time" brings us back down. Trish sings hauntingly overtop severely dissonant piano, while bleeps and fuzz fade in and out of the foreground, and jazz xylophone greets us like some beautiful memory trying not to be forgotten as Trish tries to revive that wooden clock that has a tick, but not a tock. When I was pondering the album's instrumentals, I decided not to include "I Found the End." That's exactly what it is. The end of the theme we found in "I Found the F," here presented by reverbed and warbled piano, repetitively playing the same downward spiral, as though Alice has finally fallen, and won't be coming back any time soon.
Overall, Broadcast finds themselves sorely missing the live drums, but seems to fit themselves into a new nitsche, where they most definitely are comfortable. Comfortably outside of lazy critic's comparisons, but comfortably within their own retro experiment. Though not always a winner, it's never a loser. Still cinematic. Still noisy. Still difficult to grasp. Still brilliant. Broadcast brilliantly allude to Gertrude Stein's 1914 book, Tender Buttons, which strived to ditch conventional grammer, meaning and syntax to convey simple "moments of consciousness", indenpendent of time and memory. As Stein says, "The change of color is likely and a difference a very little difference is prepared. Sugar is not a vegetable."