First Play: Public Service Broadcasting, Every Valley
Andrea Gin
British post-rock band Public Service Broadcasting takes a deep dive into the rise and fall of the mining industry in Wales on its new album, Every Valley.
Listening to this new music feels a little like listening to a musical documentary. The instrumental band features samples of historical materials, like propaganda films and old newsreels, and manages to give a bit of a history lesson with each of its albums. Previous topics have included World War II and the space race, and Every Valley is no exception: on it, the band tells the stories of the Welsh working class and its struggle to survive during the mining industry’s decline and eventual collapse.
Frontman J. Willgoose, Esq finds the topic to still be very relevant now. “[The story is] applicable to industries all over the Western world and possibly beyond,” he said via press release, “in the way that the Industrial Revolution generated these communities that were so dependent on one particular industry, and what happens to that community when you remove that industry from it, and where that leaves us now.”
One aspect of Every Valley is markedly different from Public Service Broadcasting’s previous three efforts: it’s the first album to feature singing. Featured guests include Tracyanne Campbell (Camera Obscura), James Dean Bradfield (Manic Street Preachers) and Lisa Jên Brown (9Bach).
The track “They Gave me a Lamp” is a collaboration with U.K. instrumental trio Haiku Salut, and tells the story of the role of women’s support groups during the U.K. miner’s strike in the mid-’80s, layered over an uplifting and bright indie-rock soundscape.
Ultimately, the songs on Every Valley address the band’s recently renewed interest in politics in the U.K.
As Willgoose told the Guardian, “That horrible phrase ‘stay in your lane’… this record rails against that and remembers the desire for bettering yourself that came from communities that coalesced around a single industry, when there was more political engagement and the idea of being working-class didn’t mean that you couldn’t appreciate art or poetry.”
Every Valley will be released on July 7. The band will be playing two dates in Canada this fall: on Sept. 16 at Belmont in Montreal and Sept. 17 at the Mod Club in Toronto.
Review: Public Service Broadcasting, ‘Every Valley’
Stephen Thompson
At first, Public Service Broadcasting’s music scans as a lighthearted gimmick: A stripped-down band — led by a guy billed as « J. Willgoose, Esq. » — performs dramatic instrumentals over voiceovers from old newsreels, documentaries, propaganda and public-service materials. But as the U.K. group prepares to release its third album, it’s striking how sturdy and versatile that sound has become.
Every Valley isn’t Public Service Broadcasting’s first concept album; that would be 2015’s The Race For Space, which revisits in stirring fashion the historical saga referenced in its title. But the band’s thematic palette has grown dramatically on Every Valley, which uses the collapse of the coal-mining industry in South Wales as a backdrop for a poignant and sweeping statement on automation, as well as the vulnerability of workers and the communities they support. The story feels universal — and far more current than some of the old-timey voiceovers might suggest.
Best of all, the band’s sound has expanded to match its artistic ambitions. In « Progress, » Kraftwerkian rhythms, processed vocals and archival samples — « You owe much to these machines » — are set against choruses in which Camera Obscura‘s Tracyanne Campbell coos, « I believe in progress! » In « Turn No More, » Public Service Broadcasting enlists the guest vocals of Manic Street Preachers’ James Dean Bradfield, who gives Every Valley a jolt of seething protest music. « All Out, » on the other hand, bypasses the singing in favor of a few dramatic samples, which sit atop a bed of stormy post-rock drama; the song powerfully evokes the labor unrest at its heart, while also pummeling as hard as the band has ever pummeled before.
Public Service Broadcasting has been fun since the beginning — especially live, when the band performs in the shadows of evocative old filmed footage. On Every Valley, it achieves something even richer and harder to accomplish: relevance.
The wealth of old footage contained with the British Film Institute’s archives in London have proved a rich source of inspiration for Public Service Broadcasting.
After basing their first two albums on public information films and the space race between the USA and Soviet Russia, J Willgoose Esq headed back there again for their third record.
Every Valley explores the history of the coal mining community in South Wales and the profound changes wrought upon it by the industry’s decline and fall.
“There isn’t a particularly simple route for getting to the album being the way it was,” begins Willgoose. “It was the idea over a lot of time of maybe something interesting I could do with the BFI’s mining archives, because I know they’ve got a lot and we’ve got a good relationship with them, wanting to do something different after The Race For Space and this progression of big, epic, enormous themes and maybe do something that was a little bit more specific geographically and maybe had a bit more of a political edge.
“I think the thing that drew me to South Wales more than anything was the strength of the community there and how it was the most solid area during the strike [of 1984-85] and wondering why was that and if that was the case what’s it like now? That’s probably what got the cogs whirring in the first place.”
Willgoose was also at pains to visit the Welsh valleys himself. “That was an important part of getting it right – or as right as someone like me could do. Going there and spending a lot of time there and doing some proper research and meeting people and speaking to people and doing it in the proper spirit of engagement and openness that subject like this warrants. If you’re going to do it you’ve got to do it properly and not go into it with too many preconceived ideas, almost like a blank slate and say, ‘What’s the story here then?’”
Speaking to people who had worked down the mines in Ebbw Vale proved eye-opening. “Living through the strike, it was little things like expecting them to be very anti-police. I think in the valleys they didn’t get too many people from London bussed in to supervise these things. A lot of the time the conflicts were with people they knew and more kind of personal. It was stuff like that, finding how much more nuanced it was, not just going in and shouting and screaming.
“It was useful background information and it was useful to speak to people who were directly involved and not just go in and think you’ve read a couple of books and watched a few films; it was an important part of the process – as much as anything gauging what these kind of people’s reactions are going to be to someone like me coming in and saying I’d like to write an album about it: is it a wall of hostility or is there an openness to it? I’m happy to say that thankfully there was a lot of openness and almost like a tacit encouragement in a couple of ways. It was great.”
Willgoose admits the band’s manager had some initial misgivings about the project. “Some people may have that reaction too: how do you take something like that and make it open and accessible? How do you end up with an engaging album that isn’t all just politics and conflict and anger? I didn’t really want to make that album,” Willgoose says. “It does have a place on it but it’s not the overriding emotion, certainly.”
The album’s central theme of the neglect and abandonment of a whole community can be seen to be reflected in other post-industrial societies around the world. Willgoose admits to feeling particularly engaged by politics in the past couple of years.
“I think it’s like the sample in They Gave Me a Lamp says, at some point, whether it’s early in your life or later in your life, you realise that everything about politics affects you directly or indirectly. I don’t see how you can’t be engaged with it given what’s been going on over the last couple of years.
“That was the interesting thing as we were making this album because I knew I wanted to do it this way even before the last General Election, when those results came through they caught everybody by surprise. I felt ‘Maybe this is a good time to be doing something like this’. Then the EU referendum happened and that adds a whole level of complication and subtlety and relevance to it all and then Mr Trump over the ocean talking about bringing these jobs back and you just think I don’t know how you couldn’t be politically engaged at the moment. It just seems impossible to me. Maybe some people manage it, maybe they have a less anxious life as a result.”
Every Valley is released on July 7. Public Service Broadcasting play at O2 Academy Leeds on October 19. publicservicebroadcasting.net
Première écoute : Public Service Broadcasting – Every Valley
Andrea Gin
Le groupe post-rock britannique Public Service Broadcasting plonge profondément dans la montée et la chute de l’industrie minière au Pays de Galles sur son nouvel album, Every Valley.
En écoutant cette nouvelle musique, on a un peu l’impression d’écouter un documentaire musical. Le groupe instrumental comprend des samples d’images historiques, comme des films de propagande et de vieux films d’actualités, et réussit à donner une petite leçon d’histoire avec chacun de ses albums. Les thèmes précédents ont inclus la seconde guerre mondiale et la course à l’espace, et Every Valley ne fait pas exception : dessus, le groupe raconte les histoires de la classe ouvrière galloise et sa lutte pour survivre durant le déclin de l’industrie minière et finalement son effondrement.
Le leader J. Willgoose, Esq trouve le sujet toujours très pertinent aujourd’hui. “[L’histoire] s’applique aux industries de part et autre le monde occidental et possiblement au-delà”, déclare-t-il via communiqué de presse, “d’une manière que la révolution industrielle a généré ces communautés qui étaient tellement dépendantes d’une industrie en particulier, et ce qui arrive à cette communauté quand tu lui retires cette industrie, et où cela nous laisse aujourd’hui”.
Un aspect de Every Valley est sensiblement différent des trois efforts précédents de Public Service Broadcasting : c’est le premier album à comprendre du chant. Les invités qui apparaissent incluent Tracyanne Campbell (Camera Obscura), James Dean Bradfield (Manic Street Preachers) et Lisa Jên Brown (9Bach).
Le morceau They Gave Me A Lamp est une collaboration avec le trio instrumental britannique Haiku Salut, et raconte l’histoire du rôle des groupes de soutien des femmes durant la grève des mineurs britanniques au milieu des années 1980, posé sur un paysage sonore de rock-indé exaltant et joyeux.
Au bout du compte, les chansons sur Every Valley abordent l’intérêt récemment renouvelé du groupe pour la politique au Royaume-Uni.
Comme Willgoose a dit au Guardian, “Cette expression horrible, restez dans votre voie… ce disque peste conte ça et se souvient du désir de s’améliorer qui est venu de communautés qui se sont unies autour d’une seule industrie, quand il y avait plus d’engagement politique et l’idée de venir de la classe ouvrière ne voulait pas dire que tu ne pouvais pas apprécier l’art ou la poésie”.
Every Valley sort le 7 juillet. Le groupe jouera deux dates au Canada cet automne : le 16 septembre au Belmont de Montréal et le 17 septembre au Mod Club de Toronto.
Chronique : Public Service Broadcasting – Every Valley
Stephen Thompson
Au début, la musique de Public Service Broadcasting semble être un gimmick léger : un groupe minimaliste – mené par un gars présenté sous le nom de “J. Willgoose, Esq.” – interprète des instrumentales dramatiques sur des voix off extraites de vieux films d’actualités, documentaires, images de propagande et du service public. Mais tandis que le groupe britannique se prépare à sortir son troisième album, il est frappant de voir combien ce son est devenu robuste et versatile.
Every Valley n’est pas le premier album concept de Public Service Broadcasting ; ce serait The Race For Space de 2015, qui revisite de manière émouvante la saga historique de la course à l’espace référencée dans son titre. Mais la palette thématique du groupe s’est dramatiquement agrandie sur Every Valley, qui utilise l’effondrement de l’industrie minière au Sud du Pays de Galles comme toile de fond d’une déclaration poignante et de grande envergure sur l’automatisation, ainsi que la vulnérabilité des ouvriers et des communautés qu’ils soutiennent. L’histoire semble universelle – et bien plus actuelle que certaines vieilles voix off pourraient suggérer.
Encore mieux, le son du groupe s’est agrandi pour aller avec ses ambitions artistiques. Sur Progress, des rythmes à la Kraftwerk, des chants transformés et des samples d’archives – “Vous devez beaucoup à ces machines” – sont installés contre des refrains dans lesquels Tracyanne Campbell de Camera Obscura roucoule, “Je crois au progrès !”. Sur Turn No More, Public Service Broadcasting engage le chant invité de James Dean Bradfield des Manic Street Preachers, qui donné à Every Valley un électrochoc de musique de protestation agitée. All Out, au contraire, contourne le chant en faveur de quelques samples dramatiques, posés sur un lit de drame post-rock tempétueux ; la chanson évoque violemment l’agitation de la main d’œuvre en son cœur, tout en tabassant aussi fortement que le groupe n’a jamais encore fait.
Public Service Broadcasting est marrant depuis le début – surtout sur scène, quand le groupe joue dans les ombres de vieux films évocateurs. Sur Every Valley, il atteint quelque chose d’encore plus riche et difficile à accomplir : la pertinence.
Public Service Broadcasting: ‘We wanted to do something on a more human level’
Jude Rogers
The band’s new album, Every Valley, chronicles the destruction of the Welsh coal industry and how its legacy still resonates in these uncertain times
It’s general election night in the Ebbw Vale mining institute and four Englishmen are telling the Welsh about Wales’s past. They wear ties, rather bravely, in front of pint-sinking choristers and local rockers in 1970s tour T-shirts. Above the stage, footage plays of mid-20th century miners, their eyes shining like anthracite, cigarettes dangling from their lips. “The arrogant strut of the lords of the coalface,” purrs Richard Burton through the speakers, “looking at the posh people with hostile eyes.” These miners look like rock stars, much more so than Public Service Broadcasting, who are operating the machinery tonight.
Between 2013 and 2015, Public Service Broadcasting ploughed a fertile furrow in the pop landscape with two albums sampling old public information films over guitar-slathered electronica: Boys’ Own adventures about space, Spitfires and the second world war. They return with a very different record: Every Valley. Chronicling the rise and fall of the Welsh coal industry, it was recorded in the Ebbw Vale institute, which stands in one the most deprived areas of a country predicted to swing closer to Tory tonight. Last year, people here voted heavily to leave the EU.
“This record remembers when the idea of being working-class didn’t mean that you couldn’t appreciate art or poetry”. J Willgoose Esq
Tonight’s gig was booked long before the election was called and frontman J. Willgoose Esq (bandmates JF Abraham and Wrigglesworth have similar, Molesworthian monikers) sits in an upstairs counselling room, without a bow tie for now, looking nervous. “We’re going to take an absolute pounding, I think.”
He’s talking about Labour. Every Valley is a project born of his renewed interest in politics and a society he feels is smothering opportunity and potential in ordinary people. “That horrible phrase ‘stay in your lane’… this record rails against that and remembers the desire for bettering yourself that came from communities that coalesced around a single industry, when there was more political engagement and the idea of being working-class didn’t mean that you couldn’t appreciate art or poetry.”
Willgoose first had the idea for Every Valley before 2015’s Race For Space, wanting to get away from “big, epic subjects… and do something on a more human level”. The album’s themes aren’t just about Wales, either, he adds – its title is deliberately universal.
Despite “vague connections” to the country thanks to a half-Welsh grandmother, Willgoose has been wary with this project about being a Londoner looking in. He recorded interviews with old miners through the NUM in Pontypridd and pored over mountains of audio and film at the South Wales Miners’ Library at Swansea University. “I expected to be viewed with suspicious half-glances, constantly,” he says. “But that hasn’t happened once. Everyone’s been supportive, welcoming and open… and making the same jokes about Brexit as we do in London.” There’s a story still here, you sense, that bears retelling.
Every Valley tells this story very inclusively. Women are the subject of the moving They Gave Me a Lamp (“If you could get the women into one meeting or get involved in one thing, you could see them as this other life,” says the voice of a local woman, Margaret Donovan). You + Me is a bilingual duet with Lisa Jên Brown from 9Bach, to address “the history of English people being absolutely awful in terms of the Welsh language,” Willgoose says. James Dean Bradfield turns poet Idris Davies’s Gwalia Deserta XXXVI into the rocking Turn No More, while the Beaufort male voice choir sing Take Me Home.
The risk of romanticising the past hangs heavy on this record, but tracks such as The Pit bring things back to earth, detailing the “three feet and six inches” of working space and the 80 degree heat. So does the chorus of Progress (“I believe in progress”), the melancholic double meaning captured perfectly by Camera Obscura’s Tracyanne Campbell. Willgoose didn’t want to impose a stronger political message on the music, because “it’s much more powerful if you leave ambiguity in –if you’re too earnest it doesn’t matter how correct your message is”.
He’d prefer that the echoes of the past in this record help us think about the present, like how the destruction of the unions in the 80s has a legacy in working conditions today. After the Tory majority in 2015, and last year’s Brexit vote, this project felt even more vital. “Watching it become more relevant, as more dominoes fell… it felt important to get on with it”, he says.
Half an hour before showtime, the institute is buzzing. The NUM’s Wayne Thomas and Ron Stoate are here, who Willgoose interviewed for the album; solid men in polo shirts who survived the miners’ strike, they’re still youthful now, which propels the past to the present. Stoate thinks the record’s “really good – mining songs before this were solemn and about dust and dying in your hospital bed”. Thomas agrees. “For a young man to come in from outside and really get to know the people and piece the story together – there’s real sincerity there.”
Both men believe the people of the valleys have been hoodwinked by politicians in recent years. “The Leave vote was that bloody bus. £350m to the NHS – so many people voted for that,” Stoate rails. “And as for immigration! People going, ‘Bloody Poles coming here, taking our jobs.’ Down the mines, we worked with Poles all the time. Lithuanians, Latvians, all of them!” Wayne nods. “Locally, nationally, internationally, there’s been a smashing of that knowledge base, those memories.” Then he shrugs. “You can only hope things will get better.”
Public Service Broadcasting take the stage at 8.30pm. The show is rousing and moving, grown men welling up at the National Coal Board’s 1960s recruitment campaign adverts, as well as songs about the conquering of Everest and the first orbiting of the moon – all night, you see men transported back to their childhoods, in full voice.
Seven hours later, Blaenau Gwent returns its Labour MP, Nick Smith, with 58% of the vote, and the Ukip candidate drops from second place to fourth. Willgoose spends the night at a nearby Premier Inn, in shock, with the words of a fan who grew up near Ebbw Vale still ringing in his ears. “He said the gig was a strange sensation, like having a band speak directly for him… and if we have helped people have their voices heard, in a tiny way, then that’s great.” And how does he feel about the election result? “It’s a total mess, but maybe it’s the start of a new generation finding their voice, realising they have the chance to make a difference.”
Every Valley is released by PIAS Recordings on 7 July
Le troisième album de PSB vire trop vers l’infotainment
Guy Oddy
Every Valley est le deuxième album studio de Public Service Broadcasting depuis Inform-Educate-Entertain de 2013, et comme ses prédécesseurs, c’est un voyage nostalgique vers le passé pas si récent que cela avec une toile de fond lourdement éléctronique et un sac plein de samples choisis de la bibliothèque du British Film Institute.
Tandis que J Willgoose Esq et Wrigglesworth ont pu être inspirés par les chemins de fer à vapeur et la course à l’espace sur les disques précédents, Every Valley voit le duo londonien prendre la mort de l’inductrie du charbon dans le Sud du Pays de Galles et son impact social comme source. Si cette terminologie sonne un peu sèche et académique, elle reflète l’ambiance de l’album, qui semble au bout du compte comme de “l’infotainment” valide avec de la musique que les saveurs electronica-trance-krautrock habituelles de Public Service Broadcasting.
Pour les premiers morceaux, Every Valley n’est pas surprenant pour les auditeurs de longue date de l’attaque particulière de Public Service Broadcasting sur l’idée de l’album concept. Mais au fur et à mesure, J Willgoose Esq et Wrigglesworth commençent à introduire des changements à leur son en incorporant des chanteurs invités comme Tracyanne Campbell, Lisa Jen Brown et James Dean Bradfield des Manic Street Preachers. Tandis que cela fonctionne sur la pop à la Goldfrapp de Progress et le duo anglo-gallois de You + Me, Turn No More semble être une opportunité perdue. Au lieu de sortir de sa zone de confort et d’essayer quelque chose de différent, Bradfield semble interpréter de manière terne un morceau de rock assez standard qui fait sonner ses hôtes comme son propre groupe.
Alors que Every Valley peut être un hymne attachant à l’idée de la “communauté”, il y a aussi un sentiment qu’il romantise un emploi qui était sale, dangereux et, dans plus de cas que possible, mortel pour tous ceux sur le front (littéral) de taille. De même, il ne fait pas attention aux retombées environnementales de l’industrie du charbon et semble par conséquent légèrement peu satisfaisant dans son échec à raconter plus que cette partie de cette histoire particulière.
PSB’s third veers too close towards infotainment for comfort
Guy Oddy
Every Valley is Public Service Broadcasting’s second studio album since 2013’s Inform – Educate – Entertain, and like its predecessors, it’s a nostalgic trip to the not-too-recent past with an electronica-heavy backing and a bag full of samples culled from the spoken word library of the British Film Institute.
While J Willgoose Esq and Wrigglesworth may have been inspired by steam-powered railways and the space race on previous discs, Every Valley sees the London duo take on the death of the coal industry in South Wales and its social impact as their source material. If this terminology sounds all a bit dry and academic, it reflects the ambience of the album, which ultimately comes across as worthy “infotainment” with tunes rather than Public Service Broadcasting’s usual electronica-trance-krautrock flavours.
For the first few tracks, however, Every Valley holds no surprises for long-time listeners of Public Service Broadcasting’s own particular take on the concept album idea. But as things unfold, J Willgoose Esq and Wrigglesworth begin to introduce some changes to their sound by bringing in guest vocalists like Tracyanne Campbell, Lisa Jen Brown and Manic Street Preacher’s James Dean Bradfield. While this works on the poppy Goldfrapp-like “Progress” and the folkie bilingual Welsh-English duet “You + Me”, “Turn No More” does seem something of a lost opportunity. Instead of stepping outside his comfort zone and trying something different, Bradfield rather uninspiringly performs a pretty straight-forward rock number that just makes his hosts sound like his own band.
While Every Valley can be quite an endearing hymn to the idea of “community” there is a sense that it also romanticises a job that was dirty, dangerous and, in more cases than seem possible, life-shortening or life-ending for those at the (literal) coalface. It similarly pays no attention to the environmental fall-out from the coal industry and consequently feels slightly unsatisfying in its failure to tell more than part of this particular story.
Rating: 9 Release Date: 2017-07-07 Label: Play It Again Sam
When Public Service Broadcasting released their first album Inform-Educate-Entertain in 2013 it left many questions, despite its obvious brilliance. Primarily it was difficult to see how this approach of instrumentals spiced with PSB dialogue would not grow very old very quickly. On their first effort the approach was varied and covered such subjects as the Spitfire, Night Mail and Everest. However that question was largely answered with their excellent, rousing and more focused Race for Space follow up that came two years later. This approach was to focus on a single subject and it told the story of the race for space from both US and USSR angles, being poignant, moving and at times as sparse as its subject matter. It also showed that when marrying a piece of original music to an old John F Kennedy speech it could turn into almost propaganda. There was also a move towards having original vocals with Smoke Faeries guesting on one track. Their third album sees them further explore this approach on what at first might seem like a smaller scale but actually may have hidden depths and meanings and might just be one of the most timely albums released this year. PSB have decamped to Wales and in particular Ebbw Vale to tell the story of the Welsh mining towns. Hiring some Celtic vocals, including James Dean of the Manic Street Preachers they follow the rise, fall and aftermath of Welsh coal.
Of course it is nigh on impossible to remove any politics from this subject matter as it is so deeply entrenched in the whole fall of the Welsh mines. And on first listen it would appear that this is a tale of Welsh mines alone. However, the arc could depict Detroit with its demise of the motor industry or any other abandoned industrial powerhouse where progress has apparently left the workforce long behind, bereft of jobs, hope and a future. In particular on this effort, the counterpoint of the elocutionary perfect delivery of Public Service Broadcasts telling the listener that there will always be a need for Welsh coal, as it does on People Will Always Need Coal, sounds both condescending and like the very kind of propaganda we are hearing on a daily basis from our current ruling classes. The whole album has a very definite arc from the promise of jobs for centuries to the ruination of an entire industry and the broken promises and lives. The centre of this is the attacking guitars and Welsh voiceovers of All Out. This is an almost metallic riff that gives way to allow the workers to tell their story before the assault continues anew. It’s a snarling beast of a number which accurately depicts the confrontation and feelings at the time and perhaps ever since.
The guest vocals are interspersed between the instrumental numbers. The most headline grabbing will be James Dean Bradfield’s turn on Turn No More which concerns the end of a pit and the final turn of the pit wheel. Its ringing guitar almost sounds like MSP at times but with an undertone of foreboding that can only belong on an album such as this. That is until the denouement where the pride begins to return and with it the true grit and defiance that has been there since. Camera Obscura’s Traceyanne Campbell gives a lighter to touch to the adrenaline filled Progress which is both welcome and needed. You Me also sees PSB break from their rules where their leader J Willgoose Esq provides the English counterpoint to Jen Brown’s welsh vocals. This is a light number full of strings and could be one of the most beautiful moments PSB have produced thus far.
Of the instrumental numbers They Gave Me A Lamp stands out alongside All Out as one of the most moving moments. This tells the story of the women in the mines and how they stood shoulder to shoulder with the men.
Of course there are still the odd nagging doubts about PSB. Is the underlying music different enough each time? Sometimes you almost feel it isn’t but this is often transcended by the subject matter and honestly how many bands plough the same furrow on each album anyway? The inclusion of a voiceover by Richard Burton, telling of the pride of Welsh miners on the opening title track is a reminder of the lyrical honey that voice once lent to War of The Worlds and perhaps it’s too close for comfort.
This is an album which provides far more poignancy with its subject matter and approach than would on the face of it be expected. That it is not laid on with a trowel is to be commended and actually makes it far more effective. Of course the tail end of the album can only be a more mournful affair than the false promises contained at the start. And inevitably this album ends the only way it can, with a Welsh voice choir. The unique approach of PSB might have found a ream seam here and perhaps one that reflects as much on our past as our present and sadly our potential future.
Note : 9 Date de sortie : 07/07/2017 Label : Play It Again Sam
Quand Public Service Broadcasting a sorti son premier album, Inform-Educate-Entertain, en 2013, il posait de nombreuses questions, malgré sa manifeste excellence. Premièrement, il était difficile de voir comment cette approche d’instrumentales relevées de dialogue de films d’information publique n’allait pas beaucoup vieillir très rapidement. Sur leur première sortie, l’approche était variée et couvrait des sujets comme le Spitfire, le Night Mail et l’Everest. Cependant, cette question a grandement été répondue avec leur excellent successeur passionné et plus focalisé, The Race For Space, qui est sorti deux ans plus tard. Cette approche était de se concentrer sur un seul sujet et il racontait l’histoire de la course à l’espace des deux angles américains et soviétiques, étant poignant, émouvant et parfois aussi épars que son sujet. Il démontrait également qu’ne mariant un morceau de musique original à un vieux discours de John F Kennedy, cela pouvait se transformer presque en propagande. Il y avait aussi un pas en avant en ayant du chant original avec les Smoke Fairies en invitées sur un morceau. Leur troisième album les voit explorer cette approche plus loin sur ce qui pourrait sembler au départ une échelle plus petite mais qui pourrait en fait avoir des profondeurs et des significations cachées et qui peut être l’un des albums les plus opportuns sortis cette années. PSB ont décampé au Pays de Galles et en particulier à Ebbw Vale pour raconter l’histoire des villes minières galloises. Employant des voix celtiques, dont James Dean Bradfield des Manic Street Preachers, ils suivent la montée, la chute et les conséquences du charbon gallois.
Bien sûr, il est presque impossible de retirer la politique de ce sujet étant donné qu’elle est enracinée tellement profondément dans toute la chute des mines galloises. Et à la première écoute, il semblerait que c’est un conte sur les mines galloises uniquement. Cependant, l’arc pourrait représenter Detroit avec la mort de l’industrie automobile ou n’importe quelle centrale électrique abandonnée où le progrès a apparemment laissé leur main-d’œuvre derrière depuis longtemps, dépourvue d’emplois, d’espoir et d’avenir. En particulier sur ce disque, le contrepoint du discours élocutoire parfait de Public Service Broadcasts disant à l’auditeur qu’il y aura toujours un besoin en charbon gallois, comme c’est le cas sur People Will Always Need Coal, sonne à la fois condescendant et comme la propagante même que nous entendons au quotidien de nos classes dirigeantes actuelles. Tout l’album a un arc très défini de la promesse d’emplois pour des siècles à la perte de toute une industrie et les promesses non tenues et les vies brisées. Le centre de tout cela sont les guitares qui attaquent et les voix galloises de All Out. C’est un riff quasi métallique qui ouvre la voie pour permettre aux ouvriers de raconter leur histoire avant que l’assaut continue à nouveau. C’est un morceau bestial rugissant qui dépeint avec précision la confrontation et les sentiments de l’époque et peut-être depuis lors.
Les voix invitées sont entrecoupées entre les morceaux instrumentaux. Celle qui attirera le plus l’attention sera James Dean Bradfield sur Turn No More qui parle de la fin d’une mine et le dernier tour de la molette. Sa guitare retentissante sonne pratiquement comme MSP par moments mais avec un sous-entendu de pressentiment qui ne peut appartenair à un album comme celui-ci. C’est à dire jusqu’au dénouement où la fierté commence à revenir et avec le véritable courage et l’attitude de défi qui est là depuis. Traceyanne Campbell de Camera Obscura donne une touche plus légère à Progress remplie d’adrénaline qui est à la fois bienvenue et nécessaire. You + Me voit aussi PSB s’éloigner de leurs règles où leur leader J Willgoose, Esq. fournit le contrepoint anglais au chant gallois de Jen Brown. C’est un morceau léger plein de cordes et ce pourrait être l’un des moments les plus beaux que PSB ont produit jusqu’ici.
Des morceaux instrumentaux, They Gave Me A Lamp ressort avec All Out comme l’un des moments les plus émouvants. Il raconte l’histoire des femmes dans les mines et combien elles étaient coude à coude avec les hommes.
Bien sûr, il y a toujours les doutes tenaces à propos de PSB. Est-ce que la musique sous-jacente est assez différente à chaque fois ? Parfois on ne le ressent pratiquement pas mais c’est souvent transcendé par le sujet et honnêtement, combien de groupes laboure le même sillon sur chaque album de toute manière ? L’inclusion d’un sample de Richard Burton, racontant la fierté des mineurs gallois sur le titre phare d’ouverture rappelle le miel lyrique que cette voix a donné autrefois à War of the Worlds et est peut-être dangereusement trop proche.
C’est un album qui fournit bien plus d’intensité avec son sujet et son approche que sur ce dont on en attend. Le fait qu’il n’en mette pas le paquet est à louer et le rend en fait bien plus efficace. Bien sûr, la toute fain de l’album ne peut être qu’une affaire plus funèbre que les fausses promesses contenues au début. Et inévitablement, cet album se finit de la seule manière possible, avec une chorale de voix masculines. L’approche unique de PSB pourrait avoir découvert un sillon et peut-être un qui réfléchit autant sur notre passé que sur notre présent et tristement notre futur potentiel.
