Brian Burton, aka Danger Mouse, has become the J.J. Abrams of alternative music.
Receiving massive critical acclaim as a member of Gnarls Barkley, Burton has also gained enormous recognition as a producer, collaborating with acts like The Black Keys, Gorillaz and Beck. Paste Magazine dubbed Burton “Producer of the Decade” in 2009; in short, he has consequently created a large amount of critical expectation in 2010.
Burton aligns himself with The Shins songwriter James Mercer in Broken Bells. The duo, which has been dubiously deemed “the next Postal Service,” composed the entirety of their self-titled LP without any outside influence. The result is a rhythm heavy, tripped out, genre-bending patchwork of epic, although somewhat rehashed proportions.
“Broken Bells” receives a large portion of its strength through dense and grandiose layers of organ and synthesizer, provided by Burton. These layers blend with Mercer’s pop sensibility to create melodies that strongly resemble The Shins’ 2001 album “Oh, Inverted World.”
Opening track, “The High Road,” serves as an accurate preview. Mid-tempo drums, bass and acoustic guitar ground an otherwise overwhelming combination of effects.
What distinguishes “Broken Bells” is an odd combination of pseudo-Motown brass, organ and vintage rhythms paired with the aforementioned formula.
This sentiment is captured most accurately in “Vaporize.” Burton provides a rhythm section clearly influenced by his time spent in Gnarls Barkley while Mercer states, “It’s not too late to feel a little more alive, make our escape, before we start to vaporize.” Indeed, not as thought-provoking as the vast majority of The Shins’ discography, but Broken Bells makes their debut on Columbia; their potential mainstream appeal rests partly in lyrical content that causes listeners to think, though not very hard, perhaps riding on the sentiments that made MGMT a success.
“Broken Bells” sinks into an enjoyable, nevertheless standard 4/4 pocket until its halfway point, “Sailing to Nowhere.” The track deviates through instrumentation and its 3/4 time signature. It is easily the strongest track and ironically describes the abstract nature of the song itself, categorizing the seemingly abrupt transitions as somewhat absurd.
The latter half of the ambitious project nearly flounders completely, following up “Sailing to Nowhere” with three lackluster tunes. These tracks are clearly filler. “Trap Doors” sounds like Tears for Fears crossed with b-side Nintendo music, in a bad way. “Citizen” is just plain tedious, dragging out its three-chord structure four minutes too long.
Thankfully Broken Bells redeem themselves through their last two tracks. “Mongrel Heart” sounds like a synthesized Joy Division. Mercer states, “love is turning you out, sliding worry around.” However, “Mongrel Heart” regains its legitimacy through a brilliantly strange bridge, shifting seamlessly from 4/4 to 6/8 time, accompanied by an electric desperado guitar and subtle trumpet trills. Transitioning into “The Mall & Misery,” Broken Bells conclude with what could easily be their single, a catchy riff from Mercer and a driving bass line from Burton that concludes the interesting, if not entirely original project.
Broken Bells is a testament to the digital age. True, this is partially due to its heavy reliance on wacky loops and samples, but mostly because it fails to embody the essence of an album. It is an engaging listen that contains four standout tracks that serve as potential singles, three fair tunes and three songs that completely undercut the duo’s credibility.







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