“I don’t want to let you feel my pain.“
A Burial At Sea are part of the swelling wave of post and math revival bands bubbling out of the UK’s DIY rock scene. Their second record Close to Home comes through Pelagic Records, putting them in company with some of the scene’s best known acts (The Ocean, Mono, Envy, LLNN, Sugar Horse, Hypno5e, and more). Since their self-titled album, the band has crossed the Irish sea and are now based in Liverpool, but the inflections and accents in their music retain many quirks that set A Burial At Sea apart from most UK instrumental rockers. This is, in part, thanks to their reverence for And So I Watch You From Afar, the original Irish math rock band that it’s hard not to ape if you aim to make something that’s all three of “wordless”, “atmospheric” and “jiggy”. Unfortunately, post rock fans are a snooty bunch, still chasing the original high of the genre’s first hit, huffing Wikipedia’s failed attempts to sort bands into their “waves” – if you don’t have space for another band in this sonic space, it’s your loss. More likely, the band haven’t found their audience yet, though the past year’s appearances at Portals, DunkFest, and ATG should help there. Moreover, A Burial at Sea have adjusted their sound on Close to Home to make it much more their own, producing a strong record in the process.
Every track on Close to Home is a tidy fourty-ish minutes, another stark departure from their debut. It will have taken discipline to keep each track at this length, searching for other ways to find drama succinctly. Track-to-track structure is now key, with momentum being carried between songs. The low end is magnanimous, heavy in a way the band had not visited until now: out with the pub-punch-up atmosphere from the heavy moments of the debut. This is now a sold-out show in a low orbit satellite over the tranquil sea. Another huge aspect to this album is its side A, side B divide: respectively, they’re light and dark, happy and sad, and ‘math’ and ‘post’.
Close to Home unfortunately starts with my least favourite track. “páirc béal uisce” is a serviceable introduction but not the band’s strongest footing. It’s sonically lush yet straightforward in its songwriting, being a simple creshendo-ic rise at a steady tempo. Already Close to Home is being pitched as a more atmospheric offering, but there’s a clear sense that they could be doing something more stirring.
From “tor head” onwards the band more than recover with quality tracks from here on out. “tor head” merges the classic wash of chorus pedals and distortion with tight rudiments and dynamic shifts to show off their math inclinations. “down to the floor” works to fit all of A Burial At Sea’s facets into three minutes, mostly succeeding. It’s here that the focus of Close to Home becomes clear: concise bite-size songs that focus on specific aspects of the band’s identity, rather than epics they’ll struggle to fit on a setlist. For those familiar with the debut record, they’ve honed in on making tracks like “Scrios an Teach”, rather than “Breezehome” or “Nice from Afar, Far From Nice”. Each segment has to play its part in the minimum time possible, or it ends up on the cutting room floor.
If you want ‘heavy’ A Burial At Sea, it is right here: “Hy-brasil” is an upbeat noodler led by the excellent brass that the band is known for, plus some cheeky blast beats at its ending. It’s even bigger twin “GORSE BUSH ON FIRE” alternates grandiose and shimmering breaks with furious mathy tapping. Its gorgeous ending holds those riffs aloft like a marble temple cresting a wave. It’s certainly my pick for the strongest track.
Following all this carnage, the following stretch is naturally much more sombre, dispensing of lightning flourishes and math rock-isms. “objects of the house” starts this off with a welcome vocal interlude. “NEW old” keeps the mood delicate with luscious clean guitars in duet and more of the band’s trademark brass. It’s not until it ends that one remembers how hard this band can go as they switch into a sombre beatdown. The final single “masterfred” starts similarly, just one voice that is ultra-sullen, building towards with a little summit with satisfying slides. “everything you are not” also explores the band’s atmospheric side. If you’re doing post rock bingo, there’s a sample of an old man recounting tales of the sea on “T.G.G.O.A”. All this patiently concludes with “DALL”, a life preserver that sucks you out of the record’s dark side.
Far from being shoehorned into a “soundtrack”-core genre, no matter one’s mood, this sort of record has a way of placating it, and if anything, guiding it upwards. Already excitable? Morose, and in need of a lift? Something grounding, at dawn, midday, or dusk? A Burial At Sea have you covered. I’m likely to send people to the debut album first as it’s scratches my itch for indulgent epics, but the actual answer for new listeners is to start with this album.
7.5/10
Close to Home drops on the 23rd Febuary through Pelagic Records, and can be pre-ordered here.