Review: Snow Patrol – ‘Fallen Empires’


fallenempiresNo-one in their right mind expects Snow Patrol to make a generation-defining album, but we oft-expect them to make a disappointing record either.

The alternative Irish outfit have been suspended rather awkwardly in the sky since the one-two punch of 2004’s ‘Final Straw‘ and 2006’s multi-format smash ‘Eyes Open‘. For instance, although the group’s last release, ‘A Hundred Millions Suns‘, should have incited the wellspring of anticipation that usually awaits a follow-up of a multi-platinum selling record, it was greeted rather expectantly and nostalgically – as if the band had been around for countless eons beforehand.




This is how we’ve grown to place Snow Patrol in the modern musical landscape, and although ‘Fallen Empires‘ is by no means a weak record, it is ultimately no exception to the band’s fuzzy arms-around your mates formula, showing minimal progression towards self-reinvention, but also typically serving to reinforce the group’s popular image as a band that we can like, but never love, nor hate.

But in saying that, such a notion is not necessarily a bad thing. Lead off single ‘Called Out in the Dark’ joyously revels in the band’s tried and tested formula; rhythmic without being assaulting and complacent without ever being cheesy. Similar things can be said about ‘The Weight of Love’, which although initially gives the impression that it cadences too often on familiar pastures, ends up serving as a showcase for Gary Lightbody’s sharp melodic skill, something that has graced the band from its very roots.

But triumphant and uplifting songs seems to only come around once in a blue moon on ‘Fallen Empires’, and it’s the instances of ‘This Is Everything You Are’, ‘Berlin’ and the strangely titled ‘Lifening’  that weaken the album’s core strength. They all follow similar templates; crystallized ballads with choruses that are not strong enough to carry the weight of the whole song. Too often throughout these middle numbers are Lightbody and co. running on batteries, milking the same reserve power that hoisted 2004’s ‘Run’ to the forefront of the music charts – but without the energy and heart that originally inspired some of the band’s most popular hits.

But ‘The Garden Rules’ is one of the exceptions, offering its wistful ambience and themes of lost innocence in an overtly authentic and human form. Such haunting expressionism is what Snow Patrol should be indulging in more. The same could be said for ‘New York’, which although isn’t quite as strong as some of the finer ballads nestled around it, manages to exist as a warm soft-on-the-ears treat for the mind, brooding and retreating within its dynamic threshold.

The reincarnating ‘In the End’ picks things up a bit, taking off like a flock of birds into summery-skies that are not too far-attached from the likes of Arcade Fire and TV on the Radio. Its hooky chorus is a welcome addition to an album that prefers to trade in your face melodies for unfocused and lethargic sound scapes.

Likewise, the ambivalent ‘The Symphony’ shows surprising adeptness to pitch change and melodic progression. With a plethora of backing vocals that compliment the song in a way that Kasabian’s Serge Pizzorno would be proud of, and a falsetto outro that harks back to Blur’s 1997 hit ‘Beetlebum’, it is one of the few instances on the album that doesn’t sound like anything Snow Patrol have done before.



‘Fallen Empires’ is far from perfect; the instrumentation is monotonous at best and clumsy when the band take risks, and Lightbody’s voice shows very little versatility throughout the course of the sixteen songs. But Snow Patrol fans will not be disappointed by the generally consistent oeuvre of songs on show here, because although it is essentially more of the same, it is more of a good thing.

Perhaps someday Snow Patrol will expand beyond the boundaries of the radio-friendly pop/rock idiom into uncharted waters, but for now ‘Fallen Empires’ is a more than satisfactory effort from one of Ireland’s most talented rock groups.

However, where they decide to travel from here is anybody’s guess.

(Raphael Hall)


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