Band of Holy Joy - Easy Listening (Exotic Pylon)

London’s Band of Holy Joy began 30 years ago as a dark electronic group along the lines of Cabaret Voltaire and early Human League, eventually morphing into the type of dramatic British art rock that Jarvis Cocker delivered on his solo albums. On the group’s 13th (?) studio full-length, they present a solid powerful collection of songs, reasserting that some things do get better with age.

Easy Listening is marked by quiet, but edgy, moments, the still water patiently awaiting the coming storm. Bandleader Johny Brown emotes his complex lyrics with the rasp of a desperate David Bowie, one who has had to fight for his meals all these years, though with the darkness of Nick Cave and Lou Reed‘s interpersonal insights. Through lush orchestration including saxophone, trumpet, dulcimer and strings, Brown tells tragic tales of loss and redemption with the wisdom of a man who has seen it all and wears the bruises to prove it. Even in the more whimsical, upbeat moments, oddly recalling Dexy’s Midnight Runners, there is an underlying sadness of experience. It’s not the bland, privileged yuppie rock of folks like The National, but the sound of one with calloused hands and bleeding knuckles who humbly rides the bus home after blowing the week’s wages in the local pub. It’s struggle, turmoil, pain and a knowledge that each bleeding wound is another heroic notch on the rifle stock of life.

If living was easy, it wouldn’t have any meaning. As bad as things can get, it’s good to know that others have been there too, so learn from their mistakes as well as yours and win the battle. For Band of Holy Joy, this philosophy is the essence of existence. Crack open that beer and enjoy it with the best drinking partner you’ll ever find. The battle continues tomorrow, but, for now, you can unclench your fists.