Danielson Ships by: Tim Clare Fri:02-Feb-07 Label: Secretly Canadian Year: 2006 WB rating 81 out of 100

Daniel Smith knows the risks associated with a concept album. He and his collective Danielson are veterans at this cause. But this still isn’t a deterrent to Smith and Co. The title on their seventh release, Ships, bears their subject of choice. Despite this title, Barnacle Bill and his seafaring mates would be excused for their annoyance at the lack of a nautical sound on the album. You see, it’s not shanties or Bonnies lying over the ocean that Danielson are interested in, rather it is the majestic and glorious nature of the ships in their hearts and minds.

On Ships, Danielson have embarked on a voyage where the mind and the music have collided harmoniously. To pursue a certain subject for an entire album, and yet never refer musically to that subject, heaps an incredible onus on the lyrical content. It’s almost like swimming with one arm behind your back – sure, you might stay afloat, but there’s every chance you could drown, too. Yet Smith and Co. pick the quivering white mess off the bottom of the pool and use their incredible grasp of all things phrasal to elaborate on their chosen tack.

The opening cut, ‘Ship The Magic Suffix’, is a beautifully-rejoicing exploration of the powers of the magic suffix. Through the addition of ‘-ship’ words, lives can be transformed. The band provide testament to this on their liner notes, outlining thousands of words ending with the suffix. On Ships Danielson extend from simply marvelling at how interesting this little word is, to identifying the ‘ship’ of their own; the higher power from where they all draw their source of inspiration. Their ship has the power to change lives, it can restore the useless to the majestic, and they climb aboard to join in its mysterious journey.

Initially the album presents as a party, where a group of mates (good mates, too: Sufjan Stevens, Sereena Meneesh and past and present Deerhoof members) hang out making fun music. However, rather than delivering a carefree bunch of tunes, the album reveals itself as a more structured, coordinated and concerted effort. This is a project album. Many hands are bound together to achieve a common purpose and all are given praise: publicists, recording staff, contest winners and judges, live performance arrangers and twenty-one musical contributors.

Smith is at the helm of this project. He orders “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon” as ‘Cast It At The Setting Sail’ starts to take its shape. It’s only the second track on the album but already a musical trend emerges: Smith’s blazing vocal interplays with strong, driving rhythms. Beside these rhythms sit an understated team of voices, the usual array of pop instrumentation and the Sufjan orchestra of horns, woodwinds and glockenspiel.  ‘Cast It At The Setting Sail’ is a tale encouraging the listener (and the collective) to transfer their burden onto this glorious ship.

Still united in spirit, musically and thematically, the Danielson team find themselves in the ship’s library, discovering its ancient histories on ‘Bloodbook On The Halfshell’. Here they learn from the ship’s map of good news, there is no uncertainty in the course that the map dictates. But the seas begin to get treacherous. Suddenly things aren’t going to plan, and it’s the map that they take second glances at. Amidst a killer riff, Smith wails: “my left-brain tells me I’m a fool/my right-brain tells me it’s true.” Falling victim to the pitfall of intellectualising what he knows to be right, Smith allows doubt to creep in and the seemingly unsinkable sinks.

And down Smith goes, as through Ships' middle section he struggles with himself and his relationships with his shipmates. ‘Did I Step On Your Trumpet’ begins the anguish, and our captain realises that he has not been who he wants to be – mutiny is afoot. The mimicking choir, creeping acoustic guitar and Smith’s own wailing vocals stir up the inner torment. It spills over to ‘When It Comes To You I’m Lazy’, a laborious ballad of lament and unrealised potential: “I want to be just like you /And I want to be free on my insides.” The ship that provided so much comfort seems so distant. Smith is alone for the first time on the album.

‘Two Sitting Ducks’ is the resolution. An intense, layered, complex exegesis of the journey he takes to get back on board: “To the end of time/I’m gonna make you my priority … you can count on me,” Smith begins his journey to redemption. His shipmates will him back on board with their bright glockenspiels and angelic voices, whilst the deep depths hinder his progress with angry, enveloping guitars and pounding drums. These two sides, good and evil, face off musically with each other. But Smith is strong and he clambers back onto the vessel.

Smith has found his place. He belongs with his crew. ‘He Who Flattened You’re Flame Is Getting Torched’ and ‘Five Stars And Two Thumbs Up’ pay tribute to this newfound contentedness. Smith is happy to give away the dreams of glory for the good of the collective ship. The project has succeeded, the concept has been realised, and the ships praises have been sung without leaving anyone souls behind – quivering in the depths. Tired but jubilant, the Danielson ship sails majestically into the sunset.