[rating=7.00]
Manchester Orchestra’s fifth album is another unexpected detour from a band that seems to reinvent itself with each release. From the underrated excellence of their 2006 debut to the experimentalism of 2011’s Simple Math to the monotone crunching guitar rock of 2014’s Cope – which of course was followed by an acoustic reworking of those same songs (2015’s Hope) – if the Atlanta indie rockers have a master plan, it’s discernable only to them.
In A Black Mile to the Surface, Manchester Orchestra delivers its best work since 2006’s I’m Like a Virgin Losing a Child. Like on its debut, on the new album Manchester Orchestra allows the songs room to breathe, creating intricate melodies and sonic tapestries that complement Andy Hull’s vivid storytelling by allowing the tales to take the spotlight. There are good riffs and distorted power chords at times, but rocking isn’t the emphasis here. Some of the best moments have little music at all, a quiet drumbeat here and a clean arpeggio there.
The band’s emphasis on story and latest reinvention can be traced to scoring the soundtrack to the 2016 film Swiss Army Man, which they did through the layering of vocals without playing a single instrument. That appreciation for vocal harmonies and allowing space for the exploration of the emotions of a moment shines through on A Black Mile to the Surface.
Album opener “The Maze” sets the tone, beginning with a slow, shimmering guitar arpeggio. “Give me some time; let met learn how to speak. I’m a maze to you,” Hull sings softly over a barely perceptible ambient hum and Andy Prince’s sparse bassline. It’s a subtle song and like the rest of the album, its appeal is that subtlety, minimalist drums and piano, intertwining vocals, and a story that creates a character while remaining ambiguous.
Quiet, moody songs have always been a strong suit for the band and A Black Mile to the Surface has some excellent examples. In the surreal tale of “Alien,” Hull tells the story of a disturbed child who was bullied at school. The song hints at the child’s deafness (“do you hear me”) and physical deformity (“the doctor asked about your ears”). Amid gentle fingerpicked guitars, Hull sings about the child turning to substance abuse and attempting suicide. “You forced the traffic to erase your family demons. And you made a pact with you and God; if you don’t move I swear to you I’m gonna make you.”
The band is at its best when exploring the dynamic depths of their songs. On “The Mistake,” Robert McDowell’s distorted guitar crashes through the tranquility of the crooner through parts of the chorus and then disappears just as quickly, disturbing the peace and adding a layer of tension. The frantic drums, rumbling synths and distorted guitars of “The Wolf” contrast with Hull’s breezy vocals and various shifts from cacophony to quiet. “There is nothing you’ve got when you die that you keep,” Hull sings amid grotesque and violent imagery. “You were all that you were; were you all you could be?”
Five albums into its career, Manchester Orchestra is making its best music since its debut. From the highest peaks of “The Wolf” to the somber whispers of “The Silence,” A Black Mile to the Surface showcases what the band does best while expanding into new frontiers and giving greater weight to telling fascinating stories.
