The Big Pink “A Brief History Of Love” Review

Storming into the States on loads of hype (and the inevitable backlash, which seems to have already started), the debut album from London’s the Big Pink, A Brief History Of Love, proves to be mostly successful at blending both the swirling, shoegazy elements of Creation Records and the raved-up psychedelic dance flair of the Verve. It’s a throwback sound and style that still manages to sound thoroughly modern, with big programmed beats and massive, spiraling guitars layered endlessly over an underlying lyrical thread that seems to try in vain to chronicle the mercurial history of affairs of the heart. The duo of Robertson Furze and Milo Cordell already have quite the musical pedigree, with Furze having played guitar in Alec Empire’s band and Cordell (the son of legendary producer Denny Cordell) running Merok Records, which has put out albums by Crystal Castles, Klaxons and Titus Andronicus. And if A Brief History Of Love is any indication, their prominence and impact on the music industry is only bound to grow.

The record gets off to a hazy, expansive start with the slow-burning, dreamlike groove of “Crystal Visions.” It sets the moody tone of the album perfectly, with its blend of screeching, fuzzed out guitars, hypnotic bass and an infectious beat. The duo produced the record themselves, with Rich Costey providing the engineering, so you know that the lads poured over each every sound. This shows in both good and bad ways throughout the album. “Too Young To Love” is a bit stultifying, especially after the dizzying heights of “Visions,” with a repetitive drum beat and droning guitar growing a bit too monotonous to hold one’s interest. It was almost like the band needed a bit of filler before they truly set the house on fire with “Dominos,” an irresistible smash that could be lethally overplayed if it falls into the right (or wrong) hands. With a drum beat that hints at the Beastie Boys “So What’cha Want,” the massively upbeat song is so ridiculously infectious and catchy that it almost seems out of place on the record. It not only sounds completely different from the other songs on the record, it sounds different from every other song released this year. Despite not being the best song on the album “Dominos” is a clear touchstone for A Brief History Of Love.

The obvious Verve influence on the Big Pink is apparent on the dreamy ballad “Love In Vain,” which would fit quite nicely on Storm In Heaven. As it is, the song provides a bit of a welcome breather after the raucous “Dominos,” and the wistful sentiment of the track goes well with the mournful pacing of the music. It’s a subtly gorgeous song. “At War With The Sun” has a bit of an Echo & The Bunnymen sound to it, and behind a rousing keyboard melody, the song is able to soar before the band expands on the taut dynamic and stretches out the track a bit at the end. But the album again takes a stylistic turn on “Velvet,” hands down the best track on the record. It’s a brooding, sprawling gem of a track that just builds in intensity and scope as it plays out. By the time Furze delivers the lyrics “These arms are mine/Don’t mind who they hold/So should I maybe just leave love alone” the song has truly ascended to epic heights and absolutely steamrolls the listener with a swirling sonic blast. It’s massive in every sense of the word, and is one of the best songs I’ve heard this year.

After such a great song, any album is bound to have a drop in momentum, and unfortunately the lag here drags on for a few tracks, with hints of Barry Manilow’s “Mandy” (seriously!) hidden within the chorus of the lumbering “Golden Pendulum” and the mish-mash, pseudo-rave track “Frisk” never quite attaining the lofty danceability the group is obviously striving for. The somber title track gets things going back in the right direction again, with the lovely backing vocals of Joanne Robertson adding to the tenderhearted nature of the song. The spiraling coda closes out the song nicely, and the track really ties the theme of the album together, doing away with the chauvinistic posturing of some of the other tracks with the forlorn lines: “As you leave me… it’s up to you to mend my heart/Please don’t let it go.” After such a melancholy track, “Tonight” is a bit jarring, and is draped in an ’80s nightclub sound. It ends up being quite a playful number, but inevitably isn’t all that memorable. The band returns to their Verve-ish sound on the more or less spoken word album closer “Count Backwards From Ten,” which runs out of gas before it becomes remotely interesting, and unfortunately ends the album on a run of a couple of clunkers.

But despite A Brief History Of Love‘s occasional missteps, the album is brimming with cocksure confidence, and is packed with layer upon layer of compelling beats, rhythms and melodies, as well as a lyrical theme that everyone with a heart that they’ve given away can relate to. It’s a record that has influences that are distinct and pronounced, but still manages to sound modern and vital. And an album built around two of the best singles released in this year is surely going to be potent and compelling. Critics have been tripping over themselves to either heap praise or scorn on the Big Pink as being either musical saviors or massive letdowns, but either way this record has people talking and heads nodding along to the beat. The spirited songs themselves see their way through both the hype and the backlash, leaving us with a dazzling (if uneven) album that certainly justifies all of the interest and the accolades bestowed on the band.

Also: The Big Pink “Dominos”