On the website, there’s a piece of technology built in that tells me where people are when they read it. It genuinely staggers me how far the words that are on it reach.
I’m writing this the day before it’s being published and there’s about 60 countries around the world that have seen the site today. Contrast this with my life where, as I always say, I am 45 years old, I go and vote in elections at the same infant school that I went to when I was five. Where I live in the same house we moved into when I was 10 and I’ve done the same job that I have done since 2007.
Movement, though is integral to No Coward Soul, and location is utterly central to “The Boondox”. Like the debut album, which I reviewed on this site back a couple of years ago, it is the sound of cultures clashing.
Based in London, but with a lead singer and guitarist in Brad Schmauss who grew up in the Alaskan woods, the 10 tracks here are a more fully formed expansion of the ideas on “The Almanac”. More personal, in that the lyrics tell stories of the life he left behind, the music of mouth organ, ukulele and glockenspiel from Sarah Phillips, guitar, piano and backing vocals from Martin Gray, bass guitar from Jules Clement Smith and drums and percussion from Sam Kinsey, has morphed to match.
The soulful, summer sounds of “King Of The World” are a strident, confident opener. The way the vocal lines and harmonies intertwine is perhaps reminiscent of the wonderful Harrow Fair, but a name I kept conjuring in my head was that of Wille And The Bandits, The same experimentation, individuality, but somehow rural feel.
It’s all over the energetic “Jason’s Ridge”, a place near where Schmauss grew up, which juxtaposes its hoedown feel with some bleak reality of small towns. The band have a chemistry though, that proves maybe that music is universal. The poetic “Chasing The Ghost” has a Celtic flavour, while there’s something almost old time about the brilliantly singalong “Cross The River” which is coloured wonderfully by the accordion.
The music is able to deftly switch moods. The more folk, if you will, “Cinco De Mayo” seems to hide a real misery – and there’s a bit in the second verse where you can’t help but think of Springsteen.
Most of the time, though, it just wants to sound like its having a good time. “San Antonio” for example, merrily pulses along with its bass grooves and handclaps. It’s just that this is a band you can’t pin down, given that they follow it with “Bullseye”, which would bring a tear to the eye of pretty much any Americana audience.
In truth, though, there is so much here it could be a compilation album, its just that this is one band. “Slash And Burn” is a real high point, so dark and brooding that you can see it on the soundtrack of the next series of Peaky Blinders.
Nothing is too long, either and nothing, really sums the “anything goes” approach up here better than the last pair. Glockenspiel tippy-taps over the fragile and beautiful “Wolves”, but the last one “Schwarzkopf’s Wings” is at once funky and downright odd.
Some of the stories on “The Boondox” (named after a bar in Alaska) have the air of tall tales, but all confirm the thought that its genuinely exotic up there at the other end of the world. These are stories, and this is an album, to just enjoy. One of the more original records of its type, from one the more interesting bands.
Rating 8.5/10
