Bloc Party Silent Alarm

Having listened to Bloc Party playing tonight’s live hour on Xfm, I thought I’d pen a few words about their debut. Not from sheer inspiration mind you – the set was terrible – but the album most certainly is not. I half wondered if they were pissed, they were so all over the show.

Anyway, here’s one more piece to add to the editorial plethora that followed the album's release in March. Silent Alarm is a perfect album. A perfect album to fall in love to, a – some would say overly – perfect production, but more than anything a perfect 49 minutes. Many disagree, complaining of slack and excess, but listening through, I’m reminded of various adolescent raptures over the song progression of early R.E.M. albums (Document, Life’s Rich Pageant, Green). There are certain records that I wouldn’t dare jump around on, let alone condemn to an iPod shuffle. To be honest I couldn’t be getting on with one of those.

I’m not going to bother with influences and context etc. – you’ve heard it all already anyway. Like the album, I’m going straight in. Like Eating Glass is a classic opener, stamping its foot down on your eardrums. It prepares you for what will be a record’s worth of superb percussion; one of Silent Alarm’s most exciting elements. And from here onwards, intelligent lyrics take up residence in your head in an altogether different way from the word fare of most of the opposition. An abrupt end to this homage to childhood misery and, well then, what do we have here? Ladies and gentlemen, the dance floor track of the year – as any respectable indie kid will eagerly tell you. The thrilling dropped beat of Helicopter’s chorus earns it that title, no question. We then buzz through Positive Tension and some of the album’s best samples. Banquet picks things up with a lovely jerky rhythm – and yes it wanders, but it wanders well – before dropping us off at Blue Light. Ah, the elegant simplicity of the percussion, guitar tight and pretty; this song is love in light muslin summer dresses.

A lovely piece of positioning, She’s Hearing Voices then introduces us to the socio-political conscience of this band. I have no idea what their intentions were with this track but it insists like a manifesto and has me thinking about society and mental illness. More of the same on This Modern Love, a guide to surviving relationships in the nasty noughties. If love is being lost in a forest, I like it. And you’ll pay for me? Anytime? Skip to easily the best track on this album – The Pioneers. Momentum is at its peak here - the drum kit simmers and scorches and vocals reach new heights. ‘We promised the world we’d tame it, what were we hoping for?’ It’s the fastest three and a half minutes outside of the desperate closing moments of a game when whoever you support in the Premiership is losing. Breathe in, breathe out… and we’re straight into equally aggressive Price Of Gasoline. Did I mention their socio-political conscience?

Cue some relief, of pace if nothing else, in the form of So Here We Are. Hold someone - the pretty melody and childish bassline demand it. ‘I figured it out.’ Luno recalls the domestic themes of the album’s opening and walks you straight into the last two songs, Plans and Compliments. This smart band starts cooling you off without you even realising it. ‘Kiss me before it all gets complicated.’ The moody keyboard and trancey drum samples of ‘Compliments’ still the heartbeat to about the right pace for you to stumble back into your everyday life. A little bit changed, a little bit addicted. I wonder how many reviews have been titled ‘Something glorious’? Not enough.

Album release date: 22/03/05
Who: Bloc Party
Review: Jane Rich
Pitchfork review: Bloc Party