In the past, Danger Mouse has taken artists and breathed new life into them, making listeners open their eyes and ears to a new approach to music.
He took the Beatles and mixed them with Jay-Z for a refreshing and surprisingly cohesive combination; he took Cee-Lo and created one of the catchiest songs of the past decade (remember that “Crazy” song?) and brought funk, hip-hop and indie to a wider audience.
I would assume that it wouldn’t be expecting too much to assume that the same would have happened when Danger Mouse, real name Brian Burton, teamed up with The Shin’s front man James Mercer.
Unfortunately there just isn’t anything terribly new on their self-titled debut. It sounds a little bit more like Burton produced a Shins album as opposed to creating a new band that he had a real hand in.
All this being said, Broken Bells is still a good album. What it lacks in mind-blowing creativity, it makes up for in beautiful arrangements, lush textures and Mercer’s always welcome, sweet vocals.
There are some standouts that sound like they probably wouldn’t make it onto the track list of even the quirkiest album from The Shins. It’s hard not to do a double-take hearing Mercer’s vocals in an unrecognizable falsetto on “The Ghost Inside,” a track that is funky and a little danceable, reminiscent of the dark alternative-soul of the Gorillaz.
Another surprising aspect to the album is the intense melancholy emanating from Mercer’s usually sprightly croon.
This shift in vocal tone seems most obvious in “Sailing to Nowhere,” a title as equally bleak as the lyrics it contains. Lines like, “I try to feel but just don’t,” are pretty heavy coming from a man whose prior band’s back catalog was more along the line of nostalgic than cheerless, even at its most depressing moments.
But his gloom fits nicely among Burton’s swooning strings and tinkling pianos.
Even though this album doesn’t have any truly groundbreaking tracks, Burton knows where to put all the bells and whistles and the results are always clever and fun to hear.
Burton can layer a song properly, adding quirky synth warbles and light bells to spaces that other artists would leave empty. Little flourishes like these are best shown on “Citizen,” a spacey ode to the unanswered questions in life. With a light reverb on Mercer’s voice, synth trills and string orchestration, the listener is transported into space contemplating, “do we ever know?”
Even if this album doesn’t blow you away, it’s still nice to go along for the ride
Contact CU Independent Staff Writer Jenny Gumbert at jenny.gumbert@colorado.edu.