After a decidedly prolific release cycle which saw three albums crafted by lead singer and chief songwriter Jack Steadman and co through summer 2009 to summer 2011, there has been an unnervingly lengthy wait for the chameleonic indie troupe to deliver their fourth studio album ‘So Long, See You Tomorrow‘, but first impressions are that it was well worth the wait.
Bombay Bicycle Club has often been a difficult band to pin down to any particular genre, representing a key aspect of their indomitable charm as their back catalogue proves. A full spectrum of music deviations – from the abrasive punk anthems found on debut ‘I Had The Blues But I Shook Them Loose‘, to the follow-up melodic folk harbouring ‘Flaws‘ and the amalgamation of the two styles (with added piano segments and dance inspired bass grooves) on ‘A Different Kind Of Fix‘ – has led to a supposed period of introspection as the band continue to search within for a sound that will truly define them.
The distinctive cover art of ‘So Long, See You Tomorrow’ depicts an air of continuity as a man journeys through life under the sun and moon in an opposing direction to the shadowy figure of a woman, a clear metaphor for a theme running through much of the band’s work to date, in that the fairer sex often remain an elusive anomaly to decipher, reflected in the pensive and cautious tone to the subject matter and vocal attributes of Steadman to date.
Steadman’s recent travels throughout Turkey, Europe and Tokyo however perhaps mirrors the desire to reinvent a sound in a more calculated manner than ever before, culminating in a record that appears more assured of the role both he and the band have to play in the music industry and life outside it.
Opening track ‘Overdone’ sets the tone as an experimental song showcasing the familiar floating essence in Steadman’s vocal range, sifting in between bursts of frenetic lead guitar sounding much like Jack White had a characteristically impromptu hand in proceedings such is the frenetic pacing, while Lucy Rose makes a welcome return on backing vocals after her successful solo venture.
The melodic air to Steadman’s voice continues during ‘It’s Alright Now’, a harmonising ode to a desire for rekindling romance in the lines, ‘Some of those feelings died, step onto your side, you never did see mine’, with repeat inflections from Rose adding to the haunting atmosphere of intense neurosis and acute analysis of how to rotate lingering lust into conquering romance.
Lead single ‘Carry Me’ introduces pulsating synth-generated sounds into textured layers of punctuated bass for an intrinsically complex resonance and an early indication of where the band may journey listeners for the remainder of the record. A striking midway breakdown showcases a lower key in Steadman’s voice before juxtaposing with the soaring heights of the chorus, leading into further synthetic segments and completing a significant departure from much of the band’s previous work.
Anyone who remembers the early Nintendo period of computer games will smirk at the 80’s techno overdub which sounds uncannily like Super Mario collecting a power up, bizarrely intermingled with Steadman’s melodic crooning to the backdrop of a repeated drum machine style beat on ‘Home by Now’, where disarmingly open lyrics of acute anxiety are unfurled where he exclaims, ‘When I am old, let the tension flee, I was born crying out and it’s come back to me’, showcasing an astute attention to bodily functioning in a reflective tale.
Poetic analogies abound in the introspectively flowing ‘Whenever, Wherever’, while second single ‘Luna’ harks back to early material from the band in the lofty melodies and backing vocals binding together for a swirling crescendo of singing amidst captivating guitar hooks and bass riffs.
The pace dials back on the now seemingly staple ballad track towards the latter stages of the record in ‘Eyes Off You’, as an incredibly arresting song, with emotionally deepened melancholy echoes through an account of crippling loneliness, while again the undisputed connection of Rose’s softened voice alongside Steadman’s affected tones create an intriguing male/female dynamic that ascends the meaning of the tune.
The eastern influences of Steadman’s travels come alive in the vibrant trumpeting of the snake charmer style instrumental of ‘Feel’, a discerning album highlight, while closers ‘Come To’ and the title track each convey a lullaby quality as a fitting climax to an expertly conceived run of tracks in terms of pacing.
Bombay Bicycle Club have certainly made the most of their time away, producing a well thought out and multi-layered body of work, alluding to a band getting tantalisingly closer to the sonic nirvana they seemed to have been effortlessly edging towards even before this record was conceived.
