Bombay Bicycle Club release intimate ‘Everything Else Has Gone Wrong’
After almost six years of deafening silence, Bombay Bicycle Club has come back with a glorious 11-track-long album Everything Else Has Gone Wrong. From the title itself, it is clear that this won’t be the usual content that the band has delivered until now; in fact, it is so much more. It is an album that talks about life: an intimate, personal release that was clearly needed. This return has been awaited with trepidation and hope, and it certainly did not disappoint.
Starting with sharp saxophone sounds and theatrical, harmonical vocals in ‘Get Up’, the album already takes the shape of an impactful and strong statement. The first track, in fact, even if short, is a powerful transition to the bubbly and eclectic ‘Is It Real’ which, taking drum movements from bands like The National, is a hopeful hymn to youth and its ups and downs, which will always be missed in a later phase of life. And this is exactly what Everything Else Has Gone Wrong is about: growing up and facing it head high. And one of the downs is embodied by the more ominous title track, positioned – interestingly – as the third track on the album. “Aching for a word and the words are not coming” is a strong sentence to start a song with. But, under a sinister appearance, this track hides a bright and comforting side: when everything goes wrong, just turn the stereo on. Music, sometimes, is the only comfort one can find during difficult times, and Bombay Bicycle Club cared to make it really clear that no one is, as a matter of fact, no one: we are all someone, and we have the right not to be okay.
“I guess I found my peace again, and yes, I found my second wind”
A weak spot in this album, though, is the fourth track ‘I Can Hardly Speak’;. With dry and pounding percussions in the background, the song has a lot of potential during the opening of the chorus, but, unfortunately, that is quickly lost in the repetitive and at times monotonous phrasing of the stanzas. But the atmosphere is immediately restored with the hauntingly gorgeous and tormented ‘Good Day’.
From the start, frontman Jack Steadman’s voice is warm and smooth, almost rocking the listener back and forth like a newborn baby, singing phrases like “the melting ice caps in my drink made me stop and think about time running out”. The lyricism in this song is at the highest, diving into personal troubles and struggles everyone can relate to. With claps, choirs in the background, and echoed guitar chords, the chorus takes the listener on a journey of self-discovery – as the whole album does, song by song. Bombay Bicycle Club has done a great job in portraying and depicting emotions and feelings, so great that, at times, the line between music and visual art is blurred.
The emotional crescendo in this album explodes with the ethereal instrumental moment at the end of the fifth track, constellated by restless, shiny guitars and steady drums. This transition takes the listener to another high moment of the record: ‘Eat, Sleep, Wake (Nothing But You)’. The guitars at the start are so interesting and surreal, and the choice of looping them in a crescendo to the chorus is genius. Lyrics-wise is not the strongest, but the instrumental makes up for it. Even if slightly repetitive, the second part of the track carries a verbose phrasing that shows off the band’s talent in the rhetoric department. In an explosive special at the end, the song paints a very vivid picture of the band’s intent and objective behind this project: grandiosity.
What sounds like gasps for air introduce the seventh track ‘I Worry About You’ to the world. This is, unfortunately, another failed experiment. It is, in fact, a morbose love song that has a great idea behind, but not a great execution, alongside the next track as well, ‘People People’, that sees the presence of Liz Lawrence’s vocals too. But, on a more positive note, the lyrics are bright and carry good energy, in both songs. ‘I Worry About You’ gets up with humbling yet glorious trumpets, in an instrumental ending – a technique that apparently is really dear to Bombay Bicycle Club.
The band goes back to their roots a bit when the extravagant and exotic ‘Do You Feel Loved?’ starts, very reminiscent of their sounds in the previous album So Long, See You Tomorrow. “All the cracks around your head will fill with light”, the band – again – proves to always know what to say and how to say it. Characterised by a warm and daunting bass line, this track holds the album’s spirit high, especially in the last part, when strings and second voices are added, creating a beautiful orchestra of sounds that hug the listener and spread love. With a hushed, spent, yet intimate outro, played by cellos and what sounds like violins, Steadman sings “throw your arms around my neck and hold me tight”, almost as an invitation to everyone listening to do the same. Clearly, sometimes people forget.
After a bit of a wobbly stride, the last two tracks are so dignified, that they make the rest of the flaws disappear. The pleasing ‘Let You Go’ and the positively miserable last track – ‘Racing Stripes’ – are the perfect conclusion to an imperfect album. ‘Let You Go’ is characterised by a mantra, “touching, touching, me here, me here”, that only add to the structure which, I have to say, is pretty solid. The ending of this song is painfully poignant, as Jack Steadman almost screams, accompanied by synths and the usual pounding drums, “no, no no no, don’t you let me let you go”, adding more beauty to pain. The interesting aspect of this record is that it is beautifully tormented, it truly shows and proves that in pain, there will always be beauty. Just like in order for darkness to exist, there has to be light, somewhere.
The last track leaves a bittersweet taste, as it is almost a letter to a long-lost love, maybe himself, that Steadman has written. It might be perceived as disappointing, as this record does not see a true opening anywhere, but it just shows the path to it, never actually taking the listener there. The instruments in this are very minimal, turning it into an almost lullaby. Pinched strings are the bed Jack’s echoed and reverberated vocals lie on. The crescendo and the addition of harmonies and voices, repeating always the same thing, is the conclusion of this album, which ends on a note of mental confusion and uncertainty, but also of hope and positivity. In other words, Everything Else Has Gone Wrong ends on a note of real life.
“This light’ll keep me going, and I don’t even know wherever I may go”
