Review Summary: A solid release from a band finding their own identity, shrouded in industrial beats and gothic splendor.
It’s a trip to stumble upon an artist that’ll have you revel in a time that never was, or likely never will be. And Abney Park were a definitive example of a band that used their music and image to promote this fantasized universe of jet-powered zeppelins, goofy brass goggles and just about any mechanical device being completely analog. But it was mostly their image that those familiar with the band often remember—steampunk (basically what happened when goths discovered the color brown).
However, there was a time before they adopted this quirky stage presence to make a name for themselves. Before lead singer/songwriter Robert Brown became overly fascinated with
Jules Verne, Treasure Planet, Final Fantasy IV, and developed a strange affinity for clocks the same way Jack Sparrow did with rum, Abney Park were a standard industrial dance act with a strong gothic rock influence. Beginning in the late 90s, much of their music revolved around lyrical themes of lust, mysticism and paganism. Revolving around hazy mechanized beats, buzzing guitars with haunting melodies spread throughout, there was something that made them stand out from their peers. They didn’t have the same cold, cybernetic aura most other industrial acts had, but instead opted for a sound that was more organic, almost strictly baroque.
This became more apparent on their fourth album,
From Dreams Or Angels. Using thin drumbeats, warbling synths and humming guitar, accompanied by Robert Brown’s deep singing and some female backing vocals, the album makes use of some old-fashioned instruments here and there. It kicks off with
The Root Of All Evil which is accompanied by a catchy sitar melody and some really well-executed verses thanks to Josh Goering and Rob Hazelton’s guitar in the background. While the chorus seems a little half-baked as Brown’s vocals get drowned out by the swelling synths, the rest of the song makes up for it entirely. Other strong moments include the female choir that harmonizes with Brown’s own vocals in the chorus of
Holy War, the cathedral bells and what sounds like the chattering of a bird in
Hush. Then there are more subtle moments like the horns in
Thorns & Brambles as well as
Breathe which has a more somber tone. The latter uses the most traditional instrumentation with a gentle piano melody and some synchronized humming. Then there’s the more heartfelt number
Twisted & Broken which ends the album (if you don’t include the acoustic version of
Breathe) which talks about a boy’s wishes to find someone who can fill the gap that his parents left in him, making him feel emotionally fixed and complete in some way.
Child King has a creepier tone than most of the album, starting with dissonant, hazy, factory-like soundscapes with the tapping of tinny percussion. Along with Madame Archel’s hushed vocals and the sounds of a giggling child. A little unsettling, but a decent song, nonetheless. The pace does pick up with
Kine, a straight-forward industrial rock song featuring Brown’s baritone vox accompanied by a flute in the chorus, and the jittery beats of
The Box. The most absurd number here would have to be
Tiny Monster, purely because of its lyrics. Something about a small creature grabbing a woman’s thigh and creeping around her room at night. Not too sure, but it’s one of those songs that feels a little too kooky when compared to the rest of
From Dreams Or Angels. Otherwise, this is a solid record with some neat ideas sprinkled around, only to develop even further with their follow-up. One of the only gaping flaws with this record would have to be Brown’s constant monotonous vocal style which can get a little annoying at times, as he doesn’t extend beyond that and a couple baritone harmonies.
Recommended songs:
- The Root Of All Evil
- Kine
- Breathe
- Hush
