100 Broken Windows
It would be inaccurate to say that Idlewild's second CD “100 Broken Windows” was the only album I listened to during my junior year of college, but it wouldn't have been that much of a stretch.
The summer before, I had spent the summer taking classes abroad in Cambridge and during one of my afternoons off I strolled into a record store and got onto one of the listening booths. I chose the album seemingly at random after I decided I wasn't interested in Graham Coxon's record and I was immediately struck by the opening notes of “Little Discourage.” The guitar line sounds elastic, almost as if it was being played backwards, and soon leads to the subtle pounding of drums and Roddy Woomble's nasal croon.
I didn't buy the CD right then, but downloaded it illegally when Napster was in its heyday. I burned a copy, printed out a hand-selected picture as the album art and it quickly became the CD I took everywhere.
Just recently I got a wild hair and played the sixth track, Let Me Sleep (Next to the Mirror), and I was reminded — Jesus Christ, what an album.
Putting the record in context, Idlewild's first album (”Hope Is Important”) is kind of shit. There are inspired moments like the acoustic strummer “I'm Happy to Be Hear Tonight” and the bratty snarl of “Everyone Says You're So Fragile.” But for the most part, it's very screamy and lacking a lot of memorable melodies. On the other side, after 100 Broken Windows, the band really went off and running with all the REM comparisons that people had been bandying about. They got some mandolins. They had poet Edwin Morgan read over the dense guitars on the closing song to their third album. Their most recent album, while lovely, is dancing on the line between reputable major label rock and adult alternative.
The band has really found their voice with the third and fourth albums, “The Remote Part” and “Warnings/Promises.” They have literate, worldly lyrics, pleading melodies and a mixture of light acoustic fare with screechy electric numbers. Lately, they lean toward the acoustic.
But “100 Broken Windows” is the sound of a band who hasn't yet found its voice, but is heading there quickly. They're playing their instruments well, but don't know what kind of noise they want to make yet.
The sound palette for the record is limited. There's nary an acoustic guitar on the album and almost all of the parts are distorted. Every once in a while, they feature some electric piano. All of the songs are rockers except the last one, the mournful “The Bronze Medal.”
The thing that just gets me every time about the album is the band's ability to sell a chorus. Take “These Wooden Ideas.” It's got one of the catchiest choruses I've ever heard on a song, but it isn't a huge chorus. It's no “why'd you have to go and make things so complicated.” But the youth of the band and the urgency of the sound just bring it home.
I can't imagine anyone is still reading at this point, as I nerd out on music. But listen to the album. Hopefully you'll like it.