Bloc Party – A Weekend in the City
Vice Records (released 2/6/07)
Rock
Truth be told, despite all of the good press that’s befallen Bloc Party over the past two years, I never gotten a chance to listen to any of their music. The only song I’ve heard even remotely related to the band is the charismatic “Believe” by The Chemical Brothers, which features Bloc Party lead singer Kele Okereke.
The good thing about this band, compared to many of its contemporaries, is that Okereke doesn’t have the obligatory overly-whiny voice. Yeah, he hits high notes, like in the chaotic “Hunting for Witches”, but it seems a lot less like he’s crying over a lost love, and works well. Drummer Matt Tong likes leading the fun with sporadic drum beats that often add to the dramatic ups and downs of the album (see “Waiting for the 718”. And is that some organic breakbeat that I hear in “The Prayer”? Leave it to the Brits to sneak some of that in there. I love it.
Yes, I can see how fans of shit bands like Fall Out Boy and Panic! At the Disco can like this band, but I’d put them on a much higher level than either of those hacks. Okereke can actually sing, doesn’t insist on being the center of attention, and the album is consistent, without any one song seeming more radio-friendly than another (with the exception of “I Still Remember”, which has a video package lined up). “Uniform” builds up from a soft ballad to powerful anthem, while “On” toys with more breakbeat elements, and… yeah, those vocals are a wee bit whiny, I guess, but much like hydrogen peroxide, it’s not so bad when used sparingly.
Many of these songs, in keeping with a theme found in the album’s title, are about everyday occurrences of living in a (presumably) large city, and for that I can really respect what Okereke and Co. are doing. The album’s more mellow than what I expected, but I can’t really complain. It’s fun, but I wouldn’t call it a party. Then again, one of my favorite bands is Joy Division, and there’s nothing joyful about any of their music. If I were today the angst-ridden teenager that I was a decade ago, I would eat this album up like microwave burritos. Then again, maybe I’ve become nothing more than a bitter curmudgeon when it comes to music, and this may have been the album to get me out of my funk.
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