Album: Bastille - &

Dan Smith attempts to pare back to less bombast but doesn't always succeed

Grandiloquent indie-synth-pop outfit Bastille have been around for over a decade. Three of their four albums have been chart-toppers (the other one still made Top 5 and went Gold). They are no flash in the pan.

Head honcho Dan Smith now presents a fifth album, &, that, he says, “feels like someone talking to you, rather than turning up the volume”. Returning to his pre-success solo incarnation, he’s trying a style of music mainly associated with thoughtful 1970s American singer-songwriters. Thing is, he just can’t help laying on the over-production.

In the manner of, say, Al Stewart, Smith pens a set of historical story-songs based around everyone from Oscar Wilde to singer-activist Paul Robeson to 19th century female Chinese pirate Zheng Yi Sao. “I never wanted to be the main character, pretty fucked up there in the light,” he sings on likeable acoustic opener “Intros & Narrators”, “I’d rather sit at the kitchen table and just start to hitchhike.”

At its best, the album achieves his goals, on the likes of the Nick Mulvey-ish “Emily and her Penthouse in the Sky”, about Emily Dickinson, “Mademoiselle and the Nunnery Blaze”, and “The Seasons and Narcissus”. But, as the latter song progresses, it proves he just can’t help himself; multitracking arrives, epic tendencies take over. And there’s more of this than the low-key. “Drawbridge & the Baroness”, for instance, is completely over-the-top (although it doesn’t matter as it’s a cracking tune). Even when Smith is writing witty lyrics about Marie Curie, by the end of the tune he’s well into Gary Barlow territory, production-wise.

The album is self-indulgent and pretentious but, in our age of cultural inanity, that is often what’s good about it. I can take or leave the occasional trite lyrics, the songs about Leonard Cohen or Bob Dylan that don’t quite hit their mark, but midway through Smith demonstrates glorious pop suss, with a smart, heart-elevating song about conquering depression, “Blue Sky & The Painter”. “Is that a blue sky? Is that a blue sky? It’s about damn time! It’s about damn time!” runs the euphoric chorus. Whatever else, I keep coming back to this one.

Below: watch the video for "Blue Sky & The Painter" by Bastille

Add comment

The content of this field is kept private and will not be shown publicly.

Plain text

  • No HTML tags allowed.
  • Lines and paragraphs break automatically.
  • Web page addresses and email addresses turn into links automatically.
Self-indulgent and pretentious but, in our age of cultural inanity, that is often what’s good about it

rating

3

explore topics

share this article

the future of arts journalism

You can stop theartsdesk.com closing!

We urgently need financing to survive. Our fundraising drive has thus far raised £33,000 but we need to reach £100,000 or we will be forced to close. Please contribute here: https://gofund.me/c3f6033d

And if you can forward this information to anyone who might assist, we’d be grateful.

Subscribe to theartsdesk.com

Thank you for continuing to read our work on theartsdesk.com. For unlimited access to every article in its entirety, including our archive of more than 15,000 pieces, we're asking for £5 per month or £40 per year. We feel it's a very good deal, and hope you do too.

To take a subscription now simply click here.

And if you're looking for that extra gift for a friend or family member, why not treat them to a theartsdesk.com gift subscription?

more new music

Young composer and esoteric veteran achieve alchemical reaction in endless reverberations
Two hours of backwards-somersaults and British accents in a confetti-drenched spectacle
The Denton, Texas sextet fashions a career milestone
The return of the artist formerly known as Terence Trent D’Arby
Contagious yarns of lust and nightlife adventure from new pop minx
Exhaustive box set dedicated to the album which moved forward from the ‘Space Ritual’ era
Hauntingly beautiful, this is a sombre slow burn, shifting steadily through gradients
A charming and distinctive voice stifled by generic production