by Calvin Staropoli (@cal_staro)
It feels like Black Country, New Road have endured a full career’s worth of shake ups and new starts in just 6 years as a band. What started as an anxious, misanthropic post-punk outfit suddenly morphed into a heart-on-sleeve art rock group by their second album; a second album that many feared would be their eternal legacy after lead singer and guitarist Isaac Wood departed just days before the record's release. It would certainly have been a great legacy to leave things on, considering the acclaim and adoration that album gave them. But a band, of course, is never just one person. After losing their leading voice, the band found themselves in a moment of identity crisis. Rather than hide away, they decided to see what would happen if they simply kept going. They genuinely loved making music together, and all they wanted to do was keep doing it. They explored what this new version of BCNR could sound like on the wonderful Live at Bush Hall, a live experiment which gave other members of the group a chance to hop on the mic and tell their own stories. There was a sense of trepidation as they dipped their toes into a new sound, but it worked because the earnestness and ambition with which they’ve approached all their work so far was still very much intact. Now on their latest studio effort, Forever Howlong, it’s clear that Black Country, New Road have fully overcome that fear of change and have learned to thrive in the uncertainty.
While Ants From Up There was tethered to indie, emo, post-rock, and the bands roots as a post-punk outfit, Forever Howlong embraces the bands folkier instincts and plays up the poppiness, while maintaining the dynamic compositions they’ve become known for. There are certain elements that returning fans will recognize. Through-composed and ever-changing song structures, the swirling and hypnotic saxophone playing from Lewis Evans, and a healthy dose of cathartic musical explosions. As always, each member is given space to show their virtuosity while never distracting from the full band's cohesive sound. However, rather than electric guitar taking center stage, acoustic guitar and piano are now the driving force, with an instrumental palette based more in classical music, folk, and even musical theatre. The band finely tunes their theatrical instincts to create songs that are bombastic but emotionally resonant. “Socks” is almost opera-esque in its vocal urgency and wordiness, and the chorus comes equipped with a sing-along melody and a yearning vocal performance right out of a Broadway showstopper. “Two Horses” tells the fantastical story of a traveller who is seduced and subsequently betrayed by a strange man at a bar. It starts with a mournful acoustic guitar, but as these two characters ride away together the driving drums hike up the propulsion and intrigue, placing the listener on the horse right beside them, riding away into the night with the wind in our hair. The song follows a musical arc as the story does, its foreboding progression hinting at the betrayal revealed in the final verse. On “Salem Sisters”, the band flutters through a jaunty vaudeville number that gets interrupted by a sudden math rock interjection, with every member trying to fit as many notes as possible into this single second. By incorporating these past and present sounds in an exciting and surprisingly seamless way, BCNR are able to embrace what makes them great while being able to explore uncharted territory.
The shift in sound is most clear right off the bat as the endearing lead single “Besties” kicks the record off with a plunky harpsichord solo. It’s immediately followed by a jubilant full band explosion. This grand re-introduction is then abruptly cut off by a single guitar and the voice of violinist Georgia Ellery proclaiming “I wanna be anywhere other than this”. It’s a bit of a dour phrase to start things out on, but then we learn what this person is missing. “I wanna see my best friend waving at me”. Alas, there’s a sad twist to “Besties”. It isn’t actually a song about loving your friend, it’s a song about being in love with your friend; one that’s dead set on keeping things platonic. They refuse to let things end on a tragic note, though. Here, and on much of this album, they do not admit defeat but graciously accept that loving someone inherently comes with pain, and the answer isn’t to try and suppress the feelings. As they eloquently put it: “Just lean into it”. BCNR have always been earnest believers in the power of friendship, it got them this far after all, and they let that belief seep into the record. On a bigger picture scale, this idea of the power of togetherness is exemplified by the most immediately apparent change in sound; not one, but three new leading voices. The three singers mesh together most harmoniously on “Mary”, an acoustic ballad that delves into experiences of childhood bullying. “She screams in the shower/lost all of her power”, the three vocalists cry. Having all three voices come together here creates a sense of solidarity and strength while exploring a moment of childhood shame and embarrassment. After all, sharing in the joy also means sharing in the pain.
Later on, after establishing these three voices as a source of strength, they are able to rip all that away on the heart-wrenching “Nancy Tries To Take The Night”. As a woman debates with herself about whether to keep an unexpected pregnancy, singer Tyler Hyde feels truly isolated. When the rest of the group does join in, it's in a rather unsettling staccato arrangement which recalls the work of minimalist composer Steve Reich. Then, in one of the more memorable and mind-bending twists of the record, we get jumpscared by a frenetic breakbeat from drummer Charlie Wayne that creates a sudden burst of anxious energy. Once again, BCNR mesh the signifiers of their past sound with something completely new. Some of these ideas on paper seem to be in conflict with each other, but that just works to further enhance the equally conflicting emotions on display. Soon we’re back to a lonely piano. “Mother, will you take me?” Hyde sings, as if the unborn baby were speaking directly to her. Unlike much of the pomp and circumstance of other tracks here, “Nancy” is played almost completely straight, with BCNR showing they can up the complexity of the music without sacrificing any emotional impact. This moment has given her a chance to wonder about a different life, but she knows it’s unrealistic. Once again, that fear of change creeps up, and the only thing she can do is lean into the discomfort.
In the back half of the record, the band is able to reconnect with their bigger, more rock-oriented side. “Happy Birthday” begins with an angular, somewhat sinister chord progression that falls apart and builds itself back up again as the narrator attempts to do the same. Electric guitar firmly takes the lead here. It chugs along as saxophone and group vocals fill in the space while Hyde attempts to grapple with modern adult life and comfort her inner child. “Cheer up, child. Your world’s not falling apart”. “For The Cold Country” begins as a pastoral folk story of a heroic knight who is defeated and has to reevaluate his purpose. Piercing drums kick open the refrain, and a hypnotic, cyclical vocal melody reveals the knight's newfound purpose, and perhaps the thesis of the whole record: “I may not be the best rider of fighter/but I think I’d like to be a little lighter”. Pianist May Kershaw unfurls this revelation in an urgent stream of consciousness. The group is able to find power in accepting vulnerability, even if the fear still peaks through. As the knight and his newfound love ride through a thunderstorm, the song itself becomes a musical thunderstorm, with the band for the first time on the record truly letting it all loose. The amplifiers are cranked up, the cymbals act as lightning strikes, the saxophone roils up and down its full range, the viola shrieks in the corner. This final moment is both a moment of triumph and unease. The character has had a revelation about what really matters to them, but the real challenge is figuring out what happens next.
At this point, the only thing we can really expect from Black Country, New Road is to always be surprised. It must have been a challenge to rediscover their identity as a band, but they’ve pulled off their reinvention with grace, beauty, and intention, and created a record bursting with passionate ambition. Deep listening reveals just how in sync each member is with one another, and as that aspect comes into focus, it’s clear what they were trying to say: whatever we’re doing, we’re better off doing it together. Throughout the album, BCNR express fear and joy, heaviness and lightness, love and heartbreak, and they come out on the other side stronger because they were able to feel all of it together in the same room. Like the band itself, the music exists and thrives in a state of flux; of constant change, but it always remains grounded to who they are, as individuals and as a unit. At any given moment, each member is contributing ideas that serve to make the emotional picture clearer and more resonant. They resist the idea of any one person being a de-facto “leader” by having every musical detail be carefully crafted and essential to the overall piece. They are constantly pushing each other to dig deeper and try something truly unexpected. Change is not an obstacle, it’s the goal. OnForever Howlong,Black Country, New Road invites us to embrace the changes, and to be grateful that we can go through them with our best friends by our side.