Manchester Orchestra – Mean Everything To Nothing

• 1st Sep 2009

“I am the only one that thinks I’m crazy and I don’t know what do? And I am the only son of a pastor I know, who does the things I do.”

This is not a sneak preview of a forthcoming Kings Of Leon song, it represents the opening line of ‘The Only One’ a brooding psych’ tilted rock slide that introduces the 2nd official album of the Atlanta, Georgia upstarts, Manchester Orchestra.

‘Shake It Out’, continues the moody tunes when singer, Andy Hull settles effortlessly into a slightly desperate vocal drag. It has a building southern scamper, helping to promote the reflective, lovelorn and life weary lyrics that are given extra impetus during occasional frantic outbursts. It’s their mood switching ability which is given extra focus on this album. This is drawn out in the slow building power ballad, ‘I’ve Got Friends’ that wrenches out regret and unashamedly shows an underpinning of urbane anger.

It has always been clear from their previous work, Manchester Orchestra knows how to channel their feelings, but the stirring guitar led cacophonies now seems to add extra impetus to this element of their sincere song crafting. They often take the earthy rock pull of My Morning Jacket and The Black Keys, then drag it through a sewer of old dirty blues rock influences. This is part of their sound that’s as much grateful to 60s British blues rock, as anything from their home country.

The mid-section of this debut full length is decorated with a neat vocal to-and-fro between Andy Hull and Erica Froman, ‘100 Dollars’. With the only accompaniment to this being an extremely low-key guitar twine, as they use subtlety to draw out reflective forlornness. Building up neatly to a worried, almost rant by Hull. Wistful interludes are scattered around like litter, giving the shows of feeling and emotion even more impact.

It is when the wistful continues for the whole mini-epic song, ‘I Can Feel A Hot One’ that the true versatility of this act is laid out to bear.

Revving guitars and dusky vocals give the lacklustre and disbelieving ‘Tony The Tiger’, oodles of gritty life and, at times, it’s the closest this band comes to out-and-out blues.

Epic tune building ability is yearningly drawn out through, ‘The River’. A low-key, streaming instrumental element takes a backseat initially, to the echoing lament covering sibling rivalry, amongst other things. Then BAM, it is that characteristic mood switch again, manifesting in the desperately expressive vocals of Hull. Bringing about a killer pace change. No matter how much you think you’re expecting it, you can’t help but be taken by surprise.

Thoughtful, yet moody rockers now have a safe haven from which to enjoy their occasionally frowned up preference of music.