How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful
(Island)
Four stars
There's a strong scent of burnt bridges about Florence + The Machine's epic new album How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful. This is chaos and danger at its glorious best — an intimate art rock confessional spread over 11 infectious songs. From the start of Ship to Wreck, already released as a single, Florence Welch comes out swinging punches like the prize performer she is. As an opening lyric for a first album since 2011, Welch delivers a devastating blow: "Don't touch the sleeping pills, they mess with my head", she sings. "Am I losing touch, did I build a ship to wreck?"
Just read the song titles that follow: Various Storms & Saints, Long & Lost, Caught and St Jude (the patron saint of impossible causes in the Christian faith) and you'll get a sense of where this album is heading. This is the art of falling apart and it has rarely sounded so good.
And it’s not just about the voice here. In the past, the outstanding power of Welch’s vocals have made it pretty hard to focus on what’s happening with the music, but the whole package here is very well put together. There’s maturity in the musicianship and polish in the production. The theatrics, so evident in the band’s first two albums, are dialled down in an exquisite way. The voice and the music are in harmony even if the lyrics suggest inner turmoil.
During a recent UK radio interview, Welch described this album as "the most personal record I've ever made". She added that she had had "a bit of a nervous breakdown" during the band's hiatus after touring Ceremonials, their hugely successful second album.
Her fragility translates into a tightrope walk of emotions on this record. Welch finds herself "somewhere in the belly of the beast" in Various Storms & Saints, before counter-punching on Delilah by stating "I'm gonna be free and I'm gonna be fine". This gives way to Caught, another close confessional — and one that is sure to provide a standout moment when the band play their way through this summer's festivals — on which Welch sings "I'm caught. I can't keep calm, I can't keep still. Pulled apart against my will." Time and again, Welch jags one way, only to switch unexpectedly in the other direction.
It’s common to draw straight lines between Welch and Kate Bush, the accomplished English singer-songwriter whose star burnt so brightly 30 years ago and continues to sparkle even now. They are well-observed comparisons. Like her counterpart, Welch is an exceptional artist, blessed with a unique voice and endearing artistic eccentricities. She’s also impossible to suppress, as this wonderful new album so clearly demonstrates.
