Three years after the release of “Ants from Up There” and the subsequent departure of beloved founding vocalist Isaac Wood, Black Country, New Road (BCNR) is back with their third studio album “Forever Howlong.” After a short promotional cycle beginning in January, “Forever Howlong” was released just shy of two weeks ago.
“Forever Howlong” is somewhat of an enigma when it is placed within the context of the band’s discography. Sonically, it’s very different from their previous releases, with a blend of genres so eclectic that I was sent down a rabbit-hole trying to identify them and came out dizzy and debating whether or not “baroque-pop” is a real enough genre to include in an article.
The record explores new territory for the band with its folkiness, but brings things back to the band’s roots with its jazz flair. No matter how different it may sound from their 2021 debut “For the First Time” — my personal favorite — it’s equally as heartfelt and unconventional, making it a uniquely BCNR album in its own right.
Lead single and opener “Besties” is arguably the weakest track on the album, but that’s not to say it’s bad. It begins with twinkly, medieval harpsichord — yes, harpsichord — paired with strong vocalizing, but drops off as the production does little to help the sounds of mandolin, drums and electric guitar feel as larger-than-life as they were intended to.
Member Georgia Ellery’s vocals are agreeable, but don’t impress. However, we do get their classic, on the nose lyricism with the line “Just lean into it / I’m a walking TikTok trend.” It’s both humorous and sharp — while the sound of the mandolin may make the listener feel as though they’ve time traveled, it’s impossible and futile to pretend as though we aren’t living in this intensely modern world, and BCNR understands this.
One of my personal favorite tracks on the album comes in the form of “Two Horses.” The song follows the narrative of a lonely woman who, after meeting a handsome man at a bar, believes she has found someone to take care of her, only to find him on a dark night killing her two horses. Ellery’s vocals are softer and richer here, floating over the woodwind-heavy backing of violin, flute and clarinet.
Midway through, it gets faster, but the playing from drummer Charlie Wayne and pianist May Kershaw remains tight, building a tension that juxtaposes Ellery’s tenderness. The bridge is the best moment of the record — a quiet hi-hat and a sprawling alto sax lead naturally into the noisy climax of the narrative. It tapers off into the outro and leaves you feeling like you’re there with the narrator, grieving alongside the horses as the wind sweeps your hair across your face.
Directly after this is “Mary,” a tune sung by the aforementioned Ellery and Kershaw, as well as bassist Tyler Hyde. It’s a personal standout of mine, a modest nod to seventies folk featuring banjo and accordion, an instrumental that you can almost hear Simon and Garfunkel over.
The percussion-forward “For the Cold Country” is next, with Wayne banging on the timpani as Kershaw sings what may be the sweetest lyrics on the album: “I am proud to know you / Can I make a cup of coffee? / Can I sit down next to you? / I might not speak for a while / But, just to be here with you, be with you.” These lines are highly reminiscent of Wood’s vulnerable past lyricism but introduce a subtlety that contrasts them.
Another interesting track is “Nancy Tries to Take the Night.” Off the bat, the lyricism is incredibly poignant. Hyde sings, “You run through the streets like the whore that you are / And you hope pretty soon you’ll be struck by the car / But the light of the day tries to keep you afloat,” slightly choked up over plucky, somber banjo.
The listener expects this to continue, but instead comes a sharp onslaught of horns and drums that feels like it could be from a past album. It’s a brilliant song that, unfortunately, suffers from odd mixing where Hyde sounds as though she is trying — and failing — to scream and be heard over the instrumentals.
“Goodbye (Don’t Tell Me)” is the final track, leaving the record on a hopeful note. It’s a simple song, working with “Besties” to book-end “Forever Howlong” with hopeful songs about having “Fallen in love with a feeling.” It’s an appropriate ending for an album that was born out of those exact same feelings — love for art and hope for the future of it.
It’s hard to walk away from this record without feeling your heart tugged at. I’ll always remember BCNR as the seven-piece I discovered during their debut era, but their future is incredibly promising, and “Forever Howlong” is irrefutable, twinkling proof of that.
4/5 stars
abrescia@ramapo.edu
Featured photo courtesy of guitar.com
