Public Service Broadcasting:
Every Valley:
Test Card / PIAS:
LP/CD/DD:
Out Now:
The erudite outfit's third album begins its journey into Wales' coal history in typically wide-eyed widescreen documentary fashion. Every Valley's title-track builds gradually into a somewhat melancholic yet celebratory fanfare, peppered with occasional sampled soundbites relating to the genesis of the pits, villages and valleys of the Welsh landscape and some trademark orchestration.
Where Public Service Broadcasting's preceding albums have touched upon global subjects such as space, television and wars, Every Valley concentrates on the stoicism displayed by one nation's romance with and subsequent break-up of its coal industry. The theme may be of a claustrophobic and underground nature, but the music certainly isn't and for a bunch of self-confessed Southerners, they've achieved a decent result with an era still ringing in the ears of those with first-hand experience of the black tunnels of the last century, the miner's strike in the '80s and the subsequent termination of entire livelihoods. Conversely, even after some intense research and (sorry) digging around, J Wilgoose and co have barely touched the surface of their subject.
Still, there's a fitting homage to coal's heyday on side one in the form of People Will Always Need Coal with its 'join up now' recruitment adverts and rousing drumming. The track Progress with Camera Obscura's Tracyanne trilling sweetly over the chiming guitars, is the closest to an actual single here while James Dean Bradfield's gutteral holler lifts Turn No More to another level with clenched fists and references to folklore. There are one or two ineffectual instrumentals bookended by these two songs however - neither Go To The Road and All Out make any mention of Aberdare, the strike or Thatcher's role as community puppeteer. And perhaps therein lies Every Valley's achilles - it's too neat, too silk neckerchief and perhaps too apolitical to be anything other than a decent concept album about the hardship and decline of the British working classes.
Eventually though, the highlights queue up to form the latter third of the album with some of PSB's best work on show. Dewy-eyed poignancy rears its pretty head on the standout, frequently Welsh language piece You and Me, and nostalgia offers its comforting and reassuring hand on Mother Of The Village and the closing traditional choral homage Take Me Home, without making it all sound like a rugby team singalong.
Wilgoose and Wrigglesworth's popularity has surprised many critics yet the band's musical approachability is its USP and while Every Valley might feel like a mere toe in the water or a sentimental snapshot of the grim realities of mining and its decline, not to mention the filthy and dangerous conditions, Every Valley is still every bit as likeable as The Race For Space and Inform - Educate - Entertain.
7/10
Every Valley:
Test Card / PIAS:
LP/CD/DD:
Out Now:
Where Public Service Broadcasting's preceding albums have touched upon global subjects such as space, television and wars, Every Valley concentrates on the stoicism displayed by one nation's romance with and subsequent break-up of its coal industry. The theme may be of a claustrophobic and underground nature, but the music certainly isn't and for a bunch of self-confessed Southerners, they've achieved a decent result with an era still ringing in the ears of those with first-hand experience of the black tunnels of the last century, the miner's strike in the '80s and the subsequent termination of entire livelihoods. Conversely, even after some intense research and (sorry) digging around, J Wilgoose and co have barely touched the surface of their subject.
Still, there's a fitting homage to coal's heyday on side one in the form of People Will Always Need Coal with its 'join up now' recruitment adverts and rousing drumming. The track Progress with Camera Obscura's Tracyanne trilling sweetly over the chiming guitars, is the closest to an actual single here while James Dean Bradfield's gutteral holler lifts Turn No More to another level with clenched fists and references to folklore. There are one or two ineffectual instrumentals bookended by these two songs however - neither Go To The Road and All Out make any mention of Aberdare, the strike or Thatcher's role as community puppeteer. And perhaps therein lies Every Valley's achilles - it's too neat, too silk neckerchief and perhaps too apolitical to be anything other than a decent concept album about the hardship and decline of the British working classes.
Eventually though, the highlights queue up to form the latter third of the album with some of PSB's best work on show. Dewy-eyed poignancy rears its pretty head on the standout, frequently Welsh language piece You and Me, and nostalgia offers its comforting and reassuring hand on Mother Of The Village and the closing traditional choral homage Take Me Home, without making it all sound like a rugby team singalong.
Wilgoose and Wrigglesworth's popularity has surprised many critics yet the band's musical approachability is its USP and while Every Valley might feel like a mere toe in the water or a sentimental snapshot of the grim realities of mining and its decline, not to mention the filthy and dangerous conditions, Every Valley is still every bit as likeable as The Race For Space and Inform - Educate - Entertain.
7/10