Album Review: Don Broco - 'Amazing Things'
Don Broco’s fourth studio album, Amazing Things, has just been released — and simply put, it does what it says on the tin.
If there’s one word that should never be used to describe Don Broco, it’s ‘understated’. The Bedford born quartet are never ones to stay out of the limelight, and Amazing Things is no different. Most bands’ promotion for a new album might be some billboards, maybe a secret set at a festival. Don Broco did this — secret sets at Reading and Leeds, debuting their newly released singles, as well as a sprinkling of bright Orange posters and promotions around concert venues, certainly ticked those boxes. But, like Tom’s fake wedding prior to Technology — accompanying a beautifully grisly music video, complete with bloody, Texas Chainsaw-esque masks — that was never enough.
First came a ‘hacking’ of their account, featuring a rapid-fire posting of pictures of David Beckham, as a tease for first single Manchester Super Reds No.1 Fan and it’s intergalactic, Becks-cloning (featuring lookalike Mark Woodward) music video.
Then Rob announced that he was taking up boxing, with a fight scheduled between himself and heavyweight boxer Dave Allen, posting videos of his training routines — and even a press conference, which promptly kicked off. This was, of course, promotion for second single Gumshield, although many boxing fans were left disappointed.
These musical theatrics would suggest an even barmier, rowdier and altogether more insane album than 2018’s Technology. Indeed, there are glimpses of this frantic, anthemic insanity — ‘Bruce Willis’, for instance, complete with the iconic Die Hard phrase, is less a critique of Hollywood and more just four lads having fun and liking how it sounds. The batshit instrumentals — lofty one moment, distorted the next, accompanied by demonic laughter over what seems to be roaring klaxons — seems as quintessential Broco as it’s possible to get, with Rob’s vocals flitting between Right Said Fred and a satanic hyena. Similarly, Revenge Body is the perfect song to blast loud and, although moments of self-affirmation peek through, is likewise stupidly fun; Bad 4 Ur Health, meanwhile, seems a callback to Technology’s Porkies, full of chaos and pounding bass.
Yet, on the whole, the album is a lot more contemplative.
Both of the afore-mentioned singles, for instance feature searing choruses, laden with rage, as the band deal with the idea of the toxic ‘super fan’ and how these (for want of a better word) idols are torn down and brutalised for disappointing arbitrary expectations, and the anonymous virtual vitriol of opinions online (and the danger of not having obvious repercussions) respectively. The former takes on a particular poignancy in the context of mental health; in an interview with Kerrang, Rob Damiani mentions Chester Bennington, his well-publicised battles with his mental health, and the venomous reaction of the ‘fanbase’ to his last album, One More Light, as a prime example. Uber continues in the same, understandably misanthropic vibe; written about a racist encounter, in which the four white guys were mistakenly identified as potential allies for a racist tirade from an American taxi driver, the seething outrage mixes with the sadness and shame that comes with it to create one of the catchiest and most passionate songs on the album.
Meanwhile, personal stand-out Swimwear Season, crammed with chaos and a building soundscape that begs to be played live, is a scathing critique of instant gratification and the environmental consequences of global capitalism, as well as the innate competition contained within. “I just need a little two bed”, Rob starts, almost contritely, before the demands grow: But if you get a big five bed/ then I want a huge six bed/ (because I’ve got a big head)/ and a ten car garage/ and a south facing garden”. The tongue-in-cheek satire over the idea of the perfect life, that any lives revolving around the gratuitous idea of ‘essentials’ can never be content, is perfectly contrasted with tranquil lines from Matt; and, as the explanation gives way to screams of rage, the climax hits hard.
Interestingly, the interplay between Rob and Matt really comes into focus in this album. Don Broco have long used the dynamics between frontman Rob Damiani and Matt Donnelly to give more emphasis to both extremes of their sound, yet Amazing Things really gives this a boost. Whether it’s the Deftones-esque wave of self-checking humility from One True Prince or the slow, oppressive and unexpected brilliance of Anaheim, the consistent contrast between the two voices means each song sounds undeniably unique, if distinctly Broco-y.
Yet it’s final track Easter Sunday, featuring vocals reminiscent of a distorted Chino Moreno over slow, methodical drumming, that’s the most interesting. The harmonies are beautifully discordant, the chorus heartbreakingly honest — written about the tragic experiences of Matt’s family over COVID, suffering the the same despair and sudden pain that millions worldwide felt — and the track is almost difficult to listen to with how real it is; and yet, the constant shifts between echoing sighs and reverberating screams leaves you unable to turn away.
Amazing Things is a piece of art that flits between jokingly fun, blisteringly bitter and heart-wrenchingly vulnerable. The openings sound like a ‘typical’ Don Broco offering, setting you up for the sucker punches to come, while the ending reflects a band almost galvanised into maturity. It contains some of the best and yet strangest songs the band have released to date; but most importantly, it’s as vivid and alive as anything else you could hope for from the boys from Bedford.
Words by James O’Sullivan