The Concretes Hey Trouble by: Tom Bradbury Mon:11-Jun-07 Label: Licking Fingers Year: 2007 WB rating 61 out of 100

Sometimes people like to sit on their couch, gaze out their window and ponder their messy lives, failed relationships or whatever else is bothering them. They might open a bottle of red wine, put on an LP and revel in their melancholy. This is all great, but I don’t really want to listen to an album about that – unless the artist somehow makes it seem more significant than merely a journal entry on their own lives, as if it were something of worldly importance. The Concretes, on their new album, Hey Trouble, fail to do this. The tracks that have the most to offer are the ones that depart from this incredibly maudlin rule of overly thorough self-analysis. Victoria Bergsman is noticeably absent, with Lisa Milberg taking on full vocal responsibilities, and overall it’s a transition that is not for the best. 

The Concretes’ songs are so enshrouded in reverb that it is almost like you are hearing a reflection of the original song, or the sound of Lisa Milberg symbolically looking at herself in the mirror. Personal reflections bounce off each other, and by the time the music reaches your headphones it’s probably already gone back and forth through the band a dozen times. Milberg’s voice sounds like how I have always imagined Astrid Kircher’s, the legendary Beatles photographer and lover of Stuart Sutcliffe, would sound if she actually sang. It’s vaguely arty, slightly annoying and overly philosophical, as if every day was another existential crisis. Take, for example, the verse of ‘Didion’, where Millberg hangs on every syllable, as if considering the meaning of every word as she sings it. The effect is that she sounds more as if she were thinking aloud than singing pre-written lyrics, almost like we are privy to her interior monologue. Unfortunately, the delivery comes off as cumbersome rather than thoughtful, more like she was singing while in a state of acute intoxication. The chorus almost manages to redeem the song, as Milberg turns her attention to her lover and sings “You are so easy on the eye”. She loses herself in legitimate, uncontrollable emotion, and somehow it is more powerful than the more introspective verse.

Thankfully, the Concretes occasionally break free of their self-imposed musical hibernation. ‘Keep Yours’ is the most party song on an album that is decidedly a slow-burner. Somewhere in the hazy territory between disco and post-punk, ‘Keep Yours’ makes you wonder why on earth the Concretes don’t lash out more often. Highly danceable, it is a gleeful explosion that must surely be a result of the Concretes’ pent up energy after playing all their bedroom sleepers. It is Milsberg’s drumming that gives the song its zest, and shows the upside of having a drummer-singer, as she is able to provide exactly the rhythmic background needed for her vocals in the chorus – a symbiotic arrangement of bouncy drums and euphoric cries of “You can keep yours”.  Other tracks that fall into this much needed change of pace are, ‘Oh Boy and ‘Are You Prepared’.

Unfortunately, most of the songs on Hey Trouble are middling tunes, pleasant enough and mildly catchy, but no more. ‘Souvenirs’ never develops beyond its slow, casual guitar verse and its lyrics are not strong enough to hold up. “We have and we haven’t/been down this road before” mimics the indecision that plagues the track, even though I am sure the band has definitely been down this road before on Hey Trouble – a distinct interchangeability defines these songs.

The Concretes show that they can be contagiously upbeat, but overall seem shackled to an all too deliberate approach to songwriting.  I keep waiting for the Concretes to ‘Say Something New’, and the album contains flashes where it appears this might be about to happen, but we’ll have to wait for the next album to see if they deliver on that promise.