Review Summary: The Courage of Others finds Midlake firmly situated in 1972 via 1821, a challenging but altogether rewarding experience.
For a band as entirely oblivious to the whims of their fans as Midlake, it should come as no surprise that The Courage of Others again redefines the band’s sound with barely a nod at what came before. Like their breakthrough record The Trials of Van Occupanther was a near-180 from the psychedelic rock of their debut Bamnam and Slivercork, their latest takes four years of incubating the rustic influences of artists as varied as Nick Drake and Pentangle and turns it into a strangely hypnotic album, one that is as different from what came before as it is likely to differ from whatever follows. It’s easy to pin down the foundations that The Courage of Others is built upon, but it’s far more difficult to realize whether Midlake has succeeded in distilling their own version of it all.
On the surface there seems plenty to like here for fans of Van Occupanther, but it quickly becomes apparent that the pop heart clearly present in past tunes like that record’s “Young Bride” or “Bandits” has been tossed away in favor of a much more focused, much less accessible sound. Singer Tim Smith’s distinct vocals run the show here, painting a portrait of past times and reviving the ghosts of ‘60s-‘70s folk-rock with the uncanny ease of a weathered listener, and the band’s traditionally countrified sound takes things one step further here. The album art should give anyone a pretty good indication of what’s to come: Druidic rituals set to music, the worshipping of nature and living by the land, bucolic guitars weaving languid lines out and about around the omnipresent flutes and mournful, multi-tracked vocals.
It’s not something to be taken lightly, and at times the experience can drag as such an utter dedication to a sound can tend to do. Van Occupanther succeeded because of its rich array of sonic textures that still managed to hearken back to an overall sound, a feel for the album that gave it a classic identity. The Courage of Others without a doubt has just such a unique identity, likely even stronger than what came before, but at times this comes at the expense of dragging, as when songs like “Small Mountain” and “Rulers, Ruling All Things” might overwhelm with the dourness of it all.
But it’s the wholehearted attention to detail, the relentless pursuit of a tranquil sound meant to transport the listener straight back into the Appalachian woods, this kind of headphones album that makes The Courage of Others a decidedly experimental sort of success. It’s uplifting to hear the softly flowing harmonies of a song like “Fortune,” the anthemic climax to “Children of the Grounds” or the heartrendingly frank truths on the titular track. Midlake have shown again and again that they are a band not resistant to change but guided by it, always refining and redirecting their sounds as they see fit and damn the wave of pop culture; after all, this is a band firmly situated in 1972 via 1821. It’s the kind of forward thinking that should be praised more often than not, and while they would be advised to cut back on the flutes next go-around, The Courage of Others is a challenging and altogether rewarding experience.
