Before I begin my review, let me take you back to the Year of Our Lord 2006. I had just published a scathing refutation of quantum electrodynamics in a scholarly journal of note and I was up for tenure at a prestigious institution. It was a time of uncertainty, elation, misery, and pudding.
One day as I was trying to mindlessly browse my local music store in the manner of the common man, I came across an album with an interesting cover and title. It was Midlake’s The Trials of Van Occupanther. In an uncharacteristic fit of mild whimsy, I decided to buy it and take it home with me.
In the car I tore open the package like a nervous schoolboy attempting to remove his best gal’s unmentionables. I shoved the disc into my console with utter abandon. On the way home I was able to listen to the first several songs, and found it somewhat enjoyable. Then I became distracted, thinking about a book I was writing concerning the need for a new nihilism.
A few days later, I again found the time for Midlake. Listening to Van Occupanther in my living room, I found myself captivated once more by the cover art. Why was the man in the mask so upset? Was he this “van Occupanther”? Why is the other man wearing such a bright yellow outfit? And why is it so unnecessarily clingy?
The album did not provide me with any easy answers to these questions, but this time it did have quite an effect on me. The music of Midlake mystically transported me to another place and time, a wintry landscape in some unspecified antiquity. It could be in the year 1891, as mentioned in the album’s opener “Roscoe,” or anytime and any place. Here heroic, pioneer-like men lived physically grueling yet satisfyingly simple lives, isolated in nature. There were discernible musical influences (Radiohead, Fleetwood Mac, CSNY), but they were sublimated to Midlake’s strong vision.
It is so rare to find music of that calibre, and I was certainly grateful. Midlake’s music became thereafter a constant presence in my life. I listened to it so often that I began rationing the amount of times I was “allowed” to listen to it each week, just so it wouldn’t lose any of its emotional power due to over-repetition. I became protective of my experience with it. I told no one about it because I wanted it to be mine — all mine!
Then my relationship with The Trials of Van Occupanther became more salacious. I was convinced that only I could understand its depths; only I was fit to listen to it. I began to put off work. I would give a perfunctory lecture and spend the rest of the class locked in the faculty bathroom listening to Midlake. I kept the disc on me at all times, my hands periodically caressing it inside my breast pocket.
Inevitably, my obsession cooled and a tsunami of depression hit me. I felt nothing. I wanted nothing. Nothing but a new Midlake record. I never thought I would have to wait so long to gain satisfaction, but Midlake have finally come through. They spent three long years recording their next album, fussing over every detail to make sure it conveyed just the right mood and tone. And, although I would have liked to receive The Courage of Others in my mailbox in a more timely fashion, I am glad Midlake put so much care into their creation.
It starts off with “Acts of Man” which is like the Midlake of old in sound and lyrical content. Then one notices the more fluid guitar lines, the more layered instrumentation and vocals. Like many of the songs on Courage, this one is short and to the point. “Rulers, Ruling All Things” is the first true standout after the opener. After the middling “Children of the Grounds,” the listener is hit by the majestic one-two punch of “Bringdown” and “The Horn.” The former starts off with a little Medieval guitar flourish and then slowly builds to an ecstatic release, using female background vocals to excellent effect. Like “Branches” on Occupanther, this is the most Radiohead-esque track. “The Horn” features the most up-front electric guitars on the album and a ringing melody. The guitars almost sound psychedelic as they are joined by flutes and another soaring vocal performance. The album ends with “In the Ground,” which starts off with a dramatic orchestral flourish, but winds up being standard Midlake and goes too heavy on the flute.
Unlike say, Chinese Democracy or Step Up 2: The Streets, Midlake’s follow-up is worth the wait. Midlake took what they had achieved on Van Occupanther and expanded on it. The overall emotional tone is perhaps less isolated and more outward looking. There is much more lush and elaborate instrumentation on Courage;the album is decorated musically like a beautiful oriental rug. There is a definite 70′s prog aura to it (especially with the back-to-nature lyrics and the flute that is present on pretty much every track). But the album is still very subdued and subtle, unlike prog. There are even – gasp! – a few guitar solos (“Winter Dies,” “The Horn”), something that would have been unthinkable on Van Occupanther. As it is my duty to complain, I should mention that much of the album is similar-sounding and Courage lacks the highs of Van Occupanther (especially that album’s title track and “Branches”). Although there are a few lesser tracks (“Children of the Grounds” and “In the Ground” – clearly Midlake should avoid ground-related songs in the future), Courage is a worthy predecessor to Van Occupanther. Whether I will reach the same level of obsession with it remains to be seen.
The Courage of Others by Midlake: 4 out of 5 locks of Midlake’s hair
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