Broken Bells

Broken Bells is the crown jewel of each musician's discography and is a necessity for fans of either one.

The album's dominant themes spread themselves thin in places, such as the bland, punchless stretch around the record's middle mark. When Mercer and Burton are on point though, it works, and works well.

What Broken Bells lacks in risk it makes up in tenderness. Aww.

The resulting 10 songs are an intriguing genetic mix of modern psychedelia and eccentrioc pop. [Apr 2010, p.93]

Every moment on Broken Bells is necessary. James Mercer and Brian Burton, in this highly personal project, have nurtured a carefully multilayered array of pleasant sound with slow-moving vocals that capture the best of the worlds of both these talented artists.

Mercer's gently off-beam pop songs are lit up colourfully by the duo's choice of arrangements.

What makes Broken Bells such a compelling body of work is undeniably the result of the broad range of sounds that fill its palette. Although there are instances whereby each of the two conspirators come to the forefront, at no point does this sound like a Shins record with beats or a hip hop record with guitars.

Burton builds layered, twilit soundscapes for Mercer's pensive musings; these songs are the stuff of cloudy days and sleepless nights, and that's okay.

It turns out the two pop-science geeks are a perfect match. Danger Mouse pushes Mercer's gorgeous, existential tunecraft outward with Day-Glo dynamics.

In stretching the '60s-mining acoustic pop of the Shins over a cracked foundation of sonic-world-building, sometimes one plus one equals three. It's just weird enough to work.

Little wonder that their "Broken Bells" (Columbia) project, on which they play all the instruments, packs 11 meticulously orchestrated songs into less than 38 minutes. Burton puts a little wobble on just about every sound he conjures and Mercer pushes his voice outside its comfort zone, particularly in the upper register, making this a chilled little side-trip of an album.

Mercer's knack for twisting and turning melodies is impeccably served by Burton, who tempers and fulfills those melodies with laid-back but elaborate scores of synth, piano, organ and sometimes a full string section, the only instruments not played by Burton or Mercer.

There's ample melody in the music, and the lyrics hold anguish and malaise. But Broken Bells' production numbs the songs. What could have been cries from the heart are turned into in-jokes.

No doubt this will be a popular record, and Mercer and Burton's musical moods are hypnotizing regardless of what else is going on. But it's a mild disappointment that Broken Bells couldn't take better advantage of Mercer's songwriting skills.

He may have found the perfect partner in the Shins' James Mercer, whose moody pop sensibilities complement Mouse's muted time-capsule colors.

Unlike its creators' best prior accomplishments, Broken Bells doesn't seem prepared, or even attempting, to cross over. Nor does it feel like a new direction or outlet for either artist-- it's more of a nice detour.

Despite the scrappy rhythm guitar of album closer "The Mall & Misery," this project rarely resembles a rock band. It does, however, really feel like a group.

Broken Bells produces enough magic for one to hope Burton and Mercer don't move on quite yet, but stick around for another few dates.