I still maintain that 2009, besides being a crap year financially and personally, should have not focused so much on which albums were better than others, but on what kind of crazy collaborations the greater indie genre saw (think Discovery, Karen O. and The Kids, etc.). The announced project that came out of the meshed minds of Danger Mouse and James Mercer in September, Broken Bells, would hold its own in that list with the their blippy, bloopy, but otherwise sophisticated (thank you Mercer vocals) smooth starter debut single in December: “The High Road.” It promised a serious balance of The Shins and electronic to symphonic elements with the edge of a producer who has given a proper noise to everyone from Gnarls Barkley to Beck to The Black Keys. 
The resulting self-titled full-length doesn’t sound as cutting edge and genre-blasting as I would have expected. But classifying it just isn’t easy; saying I’ve heard the sound before would be too much so. The duo recorded all their own instruments, which definitely boosts the cool-factor of the final result. If you imagined The Republic Tigers broadening their scope by suddenly including, wait, by including Danger Mouse, well you might just get the same effect. You could sub Danger Mouse for another searcher of solo spotlight—Julian Casablancas. The album is catchy after a few listens, and it’s nice to use the words “electronic elements” to describe some highlights of the album, and not have to follow up with an eye roll. The lyrics–for all you weather-beaten and serial status updaters out there–are quite an eyebrow raise of life lessons: “Come on and get the minimum/Before you open up your eyes/This army has so many hands to analyze.”
As far as internal movement, there are moments of subtlety and inner-focus, where you hear a lot of keys and minor percussion and sweeping, swooning vocals. Those are plays like “Sailing to Nowhere,” which is great in its entirety as it breaks down to a few hooks of acoustic confession and bass drum spotlight and then flips into dramatic swings and a piano rift straight out of the 20s. “Trap Door” is also mellow, keeping in tune those low-key “electronic elements” with a hand clap-style back beats and even an inclusion of “mmmm” that I definitely dig, and you’ll appreciate. To switch gears to something a bit more upbeat and add some attitude, immediately set your dial to “The Mall and Misery” and feel a bit closer to a DJ state of sound as you bounce your head to a mini percussion lab. The lyrics here play out a tad more spiteful, “Your tiny vengeful life might pass through my mind, but I blink and it’s over.” Perfectly matches the bad-ass sound that the Shins never got to break out.
The remainder motion of this debut gift of an otherwise stellar partnership (because who knows how long it will last, so let’s not get too involved in the fling), flirts with southern acoustic (“October”), Mars Volta-reminiscent overdramatic echoes (“Vaporize”), a Bee Gees-style sound of soprano heights and hand-claps (“The Ghost Inside”), and lyrics that are more observatory than “God, I’m so heartbroken, lonely, introspective and abused.”
This album can’t be better likened to anything less obvious than a sigh. A freaking sigh. You don’t really know you needed it until it runs through your entire soul, removing all frustration, confusion and clutter by giving you the ‘You Time’ that’s deserved. Add to that some famous guys and a fling with electronic tics and you have something that should feel even better when you know what to expect.
Track Listing:
- 1. The High Road
2. Vaporize
3. Your Head Is On Fire
4. The Ghost Inside
5. Sailing to Nowhere
6. Trap Doors
7. Citizen
8. October
9. Mongrel Heart
10. The Mall and Misery
