Boduf Songs: Burnt Up On Re-Entry – album review
Boduf Songs – Burnt Up On Re-Entry (Southern Records)
Boduf Songs new album is an adventurous, unpredictable and exceptional piece of music. Louder Than War’s Adrian Bloxham has been listening to it.
‘It’s raining men, hallelujah..’ is the first line sung in the quiet, unhurried and almost whispered tone. This steal from the annuls of pop is twisted and subverted as you realise that the men are raining down from the roofs and the bodies are piling up in the streets. He makes the lyric sound like the world is coming to an end. The way he sings makes you shiver. It’s like he says all he wants with just a tone. It’s not forced or out of control, its way darker than that, you can hear every lyric and you can almost hear him breathing he sounds so close in some songs.
The music is apocalyptic, it’s dark and claustrophobic, it seems mellow to begin and then you realise that continent shattering guitars have pounded you through the floor without warning. It makes you feel. The music and the voice pull emotions out of you and trust me, they aren’t happy. It creeps into your subconscious and you feel how the music is – alone on a dark night awake and utterly bereft. Boduf Songs iron out the spark of hope. They plunge you down, ‘Everyone will let you down in the end’ pretty much sums up the mindset of the record.
This music is truly beautiful. Not the kind of beauty you see wrapped up as a supermodel or a photo of a tropical beach. This is the beauty of things you catch and leave you short of breath, the shape of a tree’s skeleton against a clear winter sky. The way that broken glass sparkles in the streetlights as you walk home in the early hours of the morning. The beauty of the deep deep red of spilt blood. It’s as much a piece of art as a musical recording.
This isn’t a record I can put into a category, the voice makes the music dark, the beats make it stick into your head and the guitars either make it sound like distilled sadness or, when the volume slams down onto you, like the world is ending. It’s a record for the dark times. A record for the times we want to forget but form us into what we are. It’s a record that deserves to be played over and over again.
All words by Adrian Bloxham. More work by Adrian on Louder than War can be found here.