British Sea Power Albums (4)
What The Critics Say
Man of Aran, a 1934 docu-drama that chronicled the difficult daily lives of the inhabitants of Western Ireland's remote Aran Islands, boasts all of the elements (wind, water, sky, and barren landscapes) that make a successful British Sea Power song, so it's no revelation that the band's soundtrack for the film fits like a pair of weather-beaten oars in a pair of equally ancient hands. The direct antithesis of 2008's stadium ready Do You Like Rock Music?, the largely instrumental Man of Aran (only the folksy "Come Wander with Me," a cover culled from an obscure 1964 Twilight Zone episode, features vocals) unfolds like a wave in the middle of the ocean with its sights set on a rocky shore. With the main melody of Rock Music's "The Great Skua" as its backbone, British Sea Power's penchant for slow-building post-rock vistas and reverb-drenched bursts of guitar, trumpet, and violin has reached its logical crescendo. While not as awe-inspiring as it yearns to be, Man of Aran deftly fuses the imagery of the open water to the sound it makes when dripping out of a vintage tube amplifier. On its own, listeners may be lulled to the chilly deeps of sleep, but paired with the accompanying DVD, they'll be wiping the salt spray from their brows and pulling long rows of kelp out of their teeth. ~ James Christopher Monger, All Music Guide
'Do You Like Rock Music?'
Release Date 1/1/2008
Tracks 12
Label Rough Trade
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
On 2005's Open Season, British Sea Power traded in some of the chilly post-rock angst that fueled their 2003 debut with a more streamlined, radio-ready approach that left some listeners yearning for the lo-fi majesty of songs like "Carrion" and "Fear of Drowning." Those tunes were still there, but they demanded repeated spins before revealing their fruits, a tactic that the stoic Brighton, England, quartet employs again -- but with far more breathtaking results -- on its third full-length, Do You Like Rock Music? Tapping the collective talents of three producers -- Howard Bilerman (Arcade Fire), Graham Sutton (Jarvis Cocker), and Efrim Menuck (Godspeed You Black Emperor!) -- in numerous locations (Canada, Cornwall, and the Czech Republic, respectively), DYLRM should be a mess, but the band has crafted a wintry, nuanced, and bold collection of epic songs that integrate the sweeping theatricality of Arcade Fire-era indie rock without all of the insularity. This is music made for people, not a person. The sound effects, choral vocals, strings, and feedback that populate DYLRM feel organic and necessary rather than just pasted in for drama's sake. There has always been a sort of rough-hewn sepia-tone unity to BSP songs, and that odd, inclusive wartime fervor permeates each track, from the rousing immigration anthem "Waving Flags" to the rallying, Blur-inspired "No Lucifer" to the sister tracks "All in It" and "Close Our Eyes" that serve as the record's bookends. Even the more meandering pieces like "Atom" and the instrumental "Great Skua" feel like steampunk soundtracks for polar exploration, a notion that looks weird in print but makes a whole lot of sense through a pair of headphones, a set of vintage basement speakers, or the inside of a freighter as it disappears into the bowels of the Arctic Ocean. ~ James Christopher Monger, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
British Sea Power's 2003 debut album was a fascinating post-punk-inspired set that sparked artful originality and thought-provoking emotion. Their follow-up, Open Season, does the same but it's much more of a streamlined affair. Open Season is virtually a 45-minute waltz of lilting string arrangements and dreamy vocals while acoustic and electric guitars chase the album's quiet golden tones. A theme of the great outdoors makes it a relaxed occasion from start to finish; the 11 songs featured aren't a schoolbook interpretation on life's hardships as much as they are a reflection on the confusion (and love) of nature. Frontman Yan and his brother Hamilton remain charming eccentrics, but this time they're poetic with their stoic, overcast outlook on modern life. The question Yan seems to ask throughout Open Season is whether or not life is really crap. Commencing with the copper-toned "It Ended on an Oily Stage," Yan softly croons, "We found God in a parking lot." He ponders whether the experience was actually real, and if it has ever happened to anyone. "How Will I Ever Find My Way Home?," an emotional seesaw of crunchy guitars and sheeting percussion, is oddly comfortable with the album's continuous mental inquisitions. The bird echoes of "Please Stand Up" match the ice-capped perils of "Oh Larsen B," maintaining the album's rich affections. Some might think that the five Cumbrian intellectuals have made their shining pop moment with this record despite British Sea Power making it quite obvious on The Decline of... that they're anything but a pop band. British Sea Power's smart approach on Open Season showcases a band in progress. This album feels alive and breathes honesty. Such an impression once again makes way for British Sea Power to stand apart from their counterparts (Doves, Coldplay, South). ~ MacKenzie Wilson, All Music Guide
'The Decline of British Sea Power'
Release Date 6/2/2003
Tracks 13
Label Rough Trade
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
The Decline of British Sea Power isn't your conventional pop record and it's not particularly a pop-sounding record from an English band. With garage rock ruling overseas and Brit-pop still making the charts in the new millennium, a four-man band from Cumbria arrived with a provocative post-punk sound brazen enough to blast away other indie rock fashionistas like Interpol and the Walkmen. The hypnotic album opener "Apologies to Insect Life" is just as intense as any Joy Division song and Echo & the Bunnymen's early work. However, British Sea Power will not be characterized as a parody. For musicians only in their early twenties, British Sea Power are intellectually complex with their inquisitive lyrical tales about Russian literature, Czech history, and influential figures of time. To call them eccentric would deem them quirky and that's not all. They're musically spontaneous and frontman Yan composes erratically charming songs reflecting nature in its most literal and perplexing senses. From the dreamy wonder of "Carrion" to slagging off the royal regime on the brassy punk-toned "Remember Me," The Decline of British Sea Power is vehement in color and substance. The 13-minute mind trip "Lately" could very well be the album epic; however, "The Fear of Drowning" is the genius standout. It's rich in space and time with its cascading guitar work, intrinsically dark with its own life lesson of having independent thoughts far away from socio-political ideals. British Sea Power are so convincing, it hurts. The Decline of British Sea Power is a conceptual effort that breathes hard in passion. With an unlikely rock blend of classicism and narrative, British Sea Power has composed a brilliant album that's nearly perfect. It's not exactly pop, but it might as well be. [The US version includes two extra tracks: "Childhood Memories" and "Heavenly Waters."] ~ MacKenzie Wilson, All Music Guide
