The amount of expectation heaped upon Dear Science would probably see the vast majority of bands tumbling down a very steep hill in an avalanche of hype, only to take out their fans, innocent bystanders, at the bottom of said hill, in a mess of broken bones and severed limbs.
Picture a grim scene where volunteers work tirelessly, day and night setting up makeshift hospitals to inadequately cope with the tragedy, the UN sending aid parcels as the army drag the wounded from among the piles of dead bodies whilst Bono consoles the relatives of the dead and injured via satellite link from the comfort of his massive house.
As I timidly place Dear Science into my CD player for the first time, my body tenses, awaiting the massacre that should inevitably take place, waiting to hear the sound of my own bones break as the hype avalanche ploughs through my uninsured house and buries me under a pile of rubble. I press play and the music starts. Thirty seconds in; no avalanche yet. After a minute the fears of an imminent disaster have recessed to the back of my mind as I am enveloped by Halfway Home’s intricate percussion, catchy vocals and hyper-effected guitars, slowly building but never climaxing. Things are looking good. Second track Crying sees no drop in quality, it’s chorus giving the album it’s first of many lump in throat moments, suggesting that Dear Science will be a more subdued listen than it’s predecessor 2006’s Return To Cookie Mountain.
The imminent avalanche induced anxiety returns briefly with third track Dancing Choose which sees vocalist Tunde Adebimpe half rapping, half shouting; a delivery that ends up sounding like the kind of crap, over-exaggerated American accent that children put on when trying to recreate something they saw on Power Rangers. Luckily, this weak point arrives early and is forgotten as the string laden Stork and Owl announces round two of listener vs. lump in throat. As the strings and beautiful backing vocals subside we are thrown into lead single Golden Age, four minutes of soulsynthsexysomething pop brilliance, before Mr Lumpinthroat returns with his string and piano accompaniment for Family Tree.
As the clever, sorry, proper clever among you may have realised, a pattern is beginning to emerge. Dear Science seems to alternate between beautiful, string accompanied, heart-rending moments, and subtle pop songs engulfed in detailed percussion and palm muted guitars. The pattern continues for the duration of the record into the funky guitars, handclaps and horns of Red Dress and the Rhodes piano and falsetto backing vocals of Love Dog, possibly the album’s most poignant track, and arguably the track most reminiscent of Return To Cookie Mountain.
It seems impossible that the multitude of musical influences on offer here should work so well together without sounding completely contrived. Punk, soul, funk. Prince, The Talking Heads, even Michael Jackson. They all seem to be in here somewhere, blended seamlessly by Dave Sitek’s intricate production. Instruments are blended in a similar fashion to the record’s influences; at times it’s impossible to tell if a machine or a human is playing the percussion, if a guitar or a synth is playing a particular part. The attention to detail paid here is astounding, it seems that no more than a few bars pass without a sound being altered subtly, surely awarding the album with a longer replay lifespan than almost anything else released recently.
Doubts could be cast over Dear Science’s ability to attain the same highly regarded status as it’s predecessor, it has no clear stand out tracks, it isn’t as obvious in any way at all and sometimes it just can’t seem to decide whether it wants to make you dance or cry. One thing is for sure; Dear Science is a brilliant record that somehow managed to succeed the ridiculous hype surrounding it’s release; an achievement in itself, so let’s all celebrate the fact that the avalanche hasn’t hit just yet.
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Our Year in lists – 2008 Roundup : AudioScribbler: A UK Media Webzine
on 29/10/2009