Broadway Project - 'The Vessel' (Memphis Industries)
4/5
By: Thomas Hannan
Great music can be born out of many things - love, anger and despair to name a few... but illness? Well, on this evidence, apparently so.
Legend has it that Broadway Project head-honcho Daniel Berridge was compelled (and in fact, medically advised) to form the collective after a rather unpleasant bout of myalgic encephalomyelitis (chronic fatigue syndrome to you and me) left him pretty much incapable of doing anything else. Now, how's that for a calling?
A fantastic cure, you may think. But not one that you'd imagine would have cheered him up so much. This follow up to 2001's well-received debut 'Compassion', is a dense, dark collection of samples, melody and tenderness. Not so generous with the old happy dust then - but neither was Portishead's classic 'Dummy', an album which bears more than a passing correlation to 'The Vessel'. So, overlook the fact that you could quite easily take this record as a musical interpretation of the wettest of wet weekends, and just enjoy the rain.
Opening 'Beauty' sets an intriguing sombre tone before the tremendous recent single 'I Believe In Superman' suggests some light appearing in the cracks between those dark clouds. It reflects everything that's most uplifting about Broadway project, an addictive sitar and beats backdrop that makes slight impact on its own but does just enough to complement the sumptuous (and curiously feminine) vocal talents of Berridge's musical-comrade, Richard Palmer.
The pairing works wonders for the majority of 'The Vessel'. Take the penultimate 'For the One' for another example, Berridge this time taking centre-stage with wooden clicks and tortuous strings, whilst Palmer's vocals sound equally moving when trying to escape from underneath. From a production point of view, the layers and cinematic ambience about it all are astounding, creating an air of old movies and decadence to rival Massive Attack at their most captivating.
The sorrow is blatant, heavy and at times can get overbearing. With songs such as 'Sufi', there is a tendency to just wallow in sadness instead of turning to things more bitter or sinister for inspiration. It's a record made for a twilight hour, a time when creepy crawlies and the unknown are likely to come out from the woodwork, but it's not until the echoes of DJ Shadow appear on the closing 'Manifesto (Stand Up)' that such suggestions are fully realised. By then of course, it's very nearly too late.
Thankfully however, this isn't a record that's designed to be understood at first glance. It takes it's time to reveal its hidden treasures, the likes of a gospel-tinged, aptly titled 'Darkling' and acoustic-flavoured 'Unborn' mere oddities at first but becoming album-highlights before long. And although both vocal and musical talent can be accused of lacking much grit, it's also quite peculiar how, eventually, a puzzling amount of strength can be drawn from compositions as fragile and insecure as 'Beaten Dog'. This is the genius of the album - managing to be uplifting and comforting, yet still doubting the existence of any light at the end of the tunnel.
Artists in this article: Broadway Project
Your Feedback
Login to post your comment