When Nothing But Thieves released their self-titled album nobody saw it coming. The rough and raw guitar tone juxtaposing singer Conor Mason’s heavenly vocals fused together the sombre and heartfelt intimacy of Jeff Buckley with the menacing doom you hear in Muse’s ‘Origins Of Symmetry’. Now with their feet firmly in the ground having stirred a frenzy in every country they’ve touched, the Essex five-piece haven’t wasted any time in putting out their sophomore record, ‘Broken Machine’.
In contrast to ‘Nothing But Thieves’, the band’s first album, it would be hard to argue the band have made any brave steps or taken any avante-garde risks, but we can guarantee the record is filled with the same ferocious animosity and throat-filling vocals that rallied hordes of music fans two years ago.
Vocally this album is another testament to just how lucky this band are to have Mason. Following a year of hardship for the young singer, this record has had an obvious therapeutic effect on him. Songs like ‘Sorry’ and ‘Broken Machine’ are littered with self-deprecation and pensive negativity. This has made for exceptional songwriting. Lyrics like “I’m a mechanical thing / With a layer of shit / And nothing bothers me now” can’t help but catch your attention and force you to listen further.
Nothing But Thieves’ debut had an overwhelming theme of curiosity consistent through most of the album. The nostalgic and emotional ‘If I Get High Enough’ floods through you, tackling serious personal issues and psychological terror. These moments are missing on ‘Broken Machine’. ‘Hell, Yeah’ is the softest song on the album and never reaches its peak. Mason’s use of momentum is missing, which makes it difficult to appreciate what you’re listening to once you’ve been introduced to the level of soul-bearing as on ‘Lover, Please Stay’. However, on the deluxe version of this album they’ve included a piano version of ‘Particles’ which is possibly the best song the band have ever released. Mason’s naked vocals are tear-inducingly angelic and the soft support from a lone piano gives this album a soul.
Like most bands, the second album has given them a chance to experiment with their sound, trying to bring in more influences in order to dig deeper into their sound. This is most notable in ‘Live Like Animals’. Like if a rock band soundtracked the Blade films, the song is filled with heavy fuzz and distorted guitar screeching. In moments this sound is pulled off, sounding like a mix between Daft Punk and early LCD Soundsystem, but most of the song sounds like a bad arcade game you’ve played for so long you don’t know how to think properly. This isn’t helped by some questionable lyrics making lackluster political statements that really take away from the subtle political fury buried within this album.
What this band does well is bring all its components together in an organised chaos. Drummer James Price is a heavyweight the band can always rely on as is evident in album opener ‘I Was Just A Kid’. When building towards the heavier moments in the album, support from guitarists Joe Langridge-Brown and Dominic Craik mingles with Mason’s soaring voice, reaching monumental moments such as in ‘Amsterdam’ and ‘I’m Not Made By Design’. The band does a terrific job at showing off what each cog is up to. It’s obvious the writing progress is very communal, something that gives this album its meaning. The band have been thrown to the dizzying heights of playing to thousands only two years after releasing their debut album. They’ve proven themselves already; this album is just cementing their role in what is so special about our era of music.
MAX GAYLER