Bloc Party 'Silent Alarm' album

Bloc Party is an autonomous unit of un-extraordinary kids reared on pop culture between the years of 1976 and the present day.

Like many such kids, between them they eventually concluded that their own attempts to imitate what had informed them could be construed as a worthy variation on the many forms that preceded. They do everything that's required to conform to the currently received ideas of what a band is: ostensibly to play instruments at the same time, but also have a title for the work created - statement, blocparty.com

Friday 24th October 2003 was a big night. In a freezing, graffiti-scarred old factory called Electrowerkz in Islington, north London, the bonfire of revolution was lit.

A few weeks earlier Kele Okereke had emailed Alex Kapranos. The Bloc Party singer, ever on the lookout for interesting thoughts and like-minds, had noted what Franz said in interviews. He admired their attitude, and appreciated the same bands, Kapranos wrote back. He liked what Bloc Party were saying. He knew the London-based four-piece were new and had yet to release a single. But would they do them the honour of supporting Franz Ferdinand?

They would, and they did. Bloc Party were amazing at Elektrowerkz. They had something.

She’s Hearing Voices, released on Trash Aesthetic, was Bloc Party’s first single. A rumbling, vaguely sinister song, inspired by a paranoid schizophrenic friend of Kele’s, propelled by a voice that was part agitated yelp, part robot intonation. Disco-punk, without cowbells on. And they’d only just begun.

Kele (23) and guitarist Russell Lissack (23) knew each other vaguely through mutual friends in Essex, where Kele went to school and Russell lived. They met again at the Reading Festival in 1999 and resolved to start a band together.

They wrote together in bedrooms. For months. And months. Slowly,
methodically, they got better. In early 2000 they met Gordon Moakes (28). He had escaped Milton Keynes with dreams of being in a better place. He saw the ad Kele and Russell put in the NME, looking for a bass player. ‘Sonic Youth, Joy Division, Pixies, DJ Shadow,’ Gordon knew this wasn’t just ‘normal rock.’

In early 2003, via a shared associate, they met Matt Tong (25). He’d come to London from Bournemouth to study music technology. Toting an HND, his own basic recording equipment and an enthusiasm for everything from Fleetwood Mac to Dead Meadow, he became Bloc Party’s ninth drummer.

The rest of 2003 was spent building up their gigging muscles. By the time of the Elektrowerkz and Metro shows, Bloc Party were a ferocious live act.

Into 2004 and Bloc Party were on the march. She’s Hearing Voices was recorded in their cheap, mouldy but special rehearsal space in Acton, west London. Paul Epworth produced their second single, the amphetamined ska-pop of Banquet (released on Moshi Moshi). He mixed it in a bedroom on a laptop, then remixed it with added dancefloor oomph.

Bloc Party signed with Wichita, the little East London label with big ideas. Here was a UK act to go toe-to-toe with the label’s top-drawer US acts, Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Bright Eyes. A band for all seasons and reasons. They had a dark, brooding, often ferocious sound to scare the parents and remind older siblings of the artier end of New Wave. Melody and energy to inspire the moshpit. They were multi-racial and therefore get this the spirit of young, multi-cultural Britain. They played in Bethnal Green, and in New Cross, so could be a fashion band and trendy rock scenesters..

Only some of these would turn out to be accurate.

Meanwhile, in July, as the headlines raged, the reviews raved and their third single Little Thoughts dived into the Top 40, Bloc Party nipped off to Copenhagen with Paul Epworth. Destination: Deltalab Studios, home of Junior Senior (oh yes), retro Sixties/Seventies décor, and racks of malfunctioning vintage equipment. Purpose: 22 days to record 15 tracks. Problems: bare mains cables and kit that wouldn’t play ball. As Epworth understates, “while this added a danger-of-death edge to the recording, it also added an anything-could-happen vibe.”

Epworth, who has since survived producing Babyshambles too, describes the recording: “We rattled through it. Bam! Bam! Bam! A false start with Luno, moved on to Marshalls, back to Helicopter, on to Plans, a jump to Like Eating Glass, on and on... Matt Tong firing his trademark machine gun rolls from skin to skin... we began to build. We set about pouring our ideas into the vat... doubling basslines with synths, bleeps, bongos, backwards reverbs, arpeggiators, glockenspiels, vibraphone, piano, 2 drumkits, loops,
marching through a whole track with bits of 4x2 gaffer taped to our feet, cowbells, triangles, ring modulators, electronic strings, mandolin, MANDOLIN!

Bloc Party came home with Silent Alarm. The album title is taken from a New Scientist article about earthquake morning systems. The band liked the resonance, felt it fitted with the music. A warning, but an ambiguous one. Unrest. Tension. Energy.

Positive Tension is a case in point, a throbbing, techno-flavoured epic with huge, Nirvana-style riffing. Then there’s Helicopter, their furious, stop-start, Blur-go-pogo last single. So Here We Are, a shimmering hit-in-waiting. Opening things, Like Eating Glass, a shouty, wire-y clarion call. Rounding things off, album finale Compliments, a more atmospheric, downbeat, intense track from this upbeat, agit-funk four-piece.

Let’s go back a bit, to the ideas and manifestos. Sitting at the heart of Silent Alarm is Pioneers. “A warning to those who think they can change the world. Not everyone can hardly anyone does. It’s about talking up your own limitations. Trying to break down the ridiculousness attached to rock bands. If we’re about anything we’re about that avoiding cliché, letting ideas stand for themselves.”

Bloc Party and Silent Alarm: a vital album from a passionate band for an honest new year.

December 2004

What to say? Where to begin? Bloc Party have been cosseting your ears for a matter of months now, and they’re one of those so hot right now bands. And rightfully so. But this is a plead for clemency; end your fashonista love, ignore your Face-endorsed interest, submerge your pre-major album release oneupmanship. Open your eyes and tune your ears. Bloc Party are the real deal.
Even to use that phrase seems wrong, sullying somehow; to attach labels or even to propel them forwards is unnecessary. It will happen, it is happening. Spare them Jonathon Ross.

Tonight’s gig at the Islington Academy is a case in point. As we sweat in the bowels of an over-furnished room, beset by expensive branded drinks and surrounded by chattering Von Dutch devotees, we stand in anticipation for a band that has already circumnavigated the sharks of cool; for inside the eye of the storm is beauty, serenity, peace and purpose.

Already, last month’s Bloc Party is old Bloc Party. The ideas overflowing from the band today in their new songs is overwhelming. The re-design and reaffirmation of their old material leaves original recordings obsolete and skeletal. It seems that currently, Bloc Party are racing against time to fulfil their own potential. It’s quite scary.

Hence, The ‘Marshalls Are Dead’ has been transformed from a wiry, sparse eulogy to sloganeering into a juggernaut of a manifesto; Gordon Moake ‘s bass is seismic and enveloping, while Kele Okereke contorts what used to be a fearsome yelp into an authoritative emote, full of fury, control and purpose. ‘She’s Hearing Voices’ is otherworldly in its delivery; furious, confrontational and so, so danceable. Russell Lissack sets the song alight with the sort of guitar pyrotechnics that belie his pubescent Bernard Butler look and hints toward the avant-garde genius of Jonny Greenwood. ‘Banquet’ is greeted like the musical event it is; and Kele pounds through it with breakneck speed, transforming it into a urgent hymn to disjointed love, underpinned by the jaw-dropping drumming of Matt Tong. ‘This Modern Love’ is a song built of Liquid Gold, whilst an ecstatic, joyful ‘Little Thoughts’ is wide-eyed euphoric and propulsive.

The new songs offer a glimpse into Bloc Party’s future; raging beasts full of monitor-shattering guitar precision and convulsive rhythm. Like old Bloc Party, but everything more so, like old Bloc Party but oh-so new and oh-so exciting. Heady times. Unfortunately, new songs mean no ‘The Answer’, no ‘Like Eating Glass’, no ‘Staying Fat’, but…

Fears? That no band can hit a run like this forever without careering off the tracks, crashing into a brick wall because they just couldn’t stop. Like a genius scientist whose brain engorges itself with knowledge and greatness before finally exploding.

Slow down Bloc Party, you’re leaving us breathless and winded.

But oh so good.

Do you also would like to share your opinion? If so, please register or login here.

Tags

Details

Bloc Party - Silent Alarm