Reissue of Bambara’s “Shadow On Everything“, released in 2018 to widespread critical acclaim, the album represented a decisive step forward for twin brothers Reid and Blaze Bateh – frontman and drummer, respectively – and their childhood friend, bassist William Brookshire.
Bambara is a grimy noise-rock band whose release “Shadow on Everything” is a cinematic achievement. The loose concept record mashes cowboy jangle with aggressive post-punk to form a scummy, empty landscape for characters to inhabit. Laced throughout is a winding, poetic tale of relationship strife and vignettes from the character’s hometown.
While prior to its release they had always been adept students of noise rock and post-punk, mining the work of bands like Swans and The Birthday Party to construct what NPR called “beautifully dynamic nightmares,” on “Shadow On Everything”, they boldly redefined their sound to create an album that clearly transcended their early influences and dramatically quickened the pace of their ascent from the underground. Consistent with their frenetic live set, the musical centre of Shadow On Everything is Bambara’s impossibly tight rhythm section, with Blaze’s manic drumming and William’s rock-steady bass-lines serving as the perfect canvas for Reid’s wild guitar squalls and howled vocals.
But the album’s recording marked the first time that Reid’s voice was pushed to the front of the mix, highlighting the damaged characters and seedy locales that interact and overlap throughout its 12 songs. A stridently experimental record, Shadow features everything from violin to saxophone arrangements, and is meticulously interspersed with outré ambient noise loops distilled down from hours of manipulated vocal collages.
Just two years after its release Shadow On Everything may seem like it was the logical next step for a band with experimental and punk origins that would go on to construct the intricate compositions displayed by its follow up Stray. In fact, Shadow On Everything memorialises Bambara putting everything on the line, because they knew they could be more than what anyone may have seen in them up to that point in time.
On Stray, the third full-length album from the sneering post-punk trio Bambara, the band is running on a full tank of fears that live inside all of humankind, invite death into the passenger seat with a canister full of kerosene, set the world ablaze, and watch it all burn with a lust as they inch closer and closer to an inevitable end. Since uprooting themselves from Athens to Brooklyn, lead vocalist and guitarist Reid Bateh, drummer Blaze Bateh and bassist William Brookshire have discretely entwined their debonaire southern gothic of their early work under the street lamps of big city streets, but ultimately, it’s the wild and reckless nature that thrives in the Big Apple at nighttime that has truly sparked a fire to ravage through flesh and soul here on their best effort to date yet yet.
Stray is also a modern day blueprint on how to resurrect tired motifs of death into rock music through a spiritual energy that never lets on as cliche. Credit that to Reid Bateh’s wicked hand at storytelling, as he colors Bambara’s hue of darkness with figures often mysterious, dangerous, and capable of a supernatural allure. Alongside his ‘mates, they splatter the canvas of their sound with their own blood as well as those they encounter. He does this all with damaged detail, like on “Miracle” where his muse writhes around a pole between the rolling bombast of brass and white hot neon in sleazy pace that feels like One Eyed Jacks’s doppelganger. On the full throttle trinity of “Heat Lightning”, “Serafina” and “Ben & Lily”, Bambara find bad company that adds an accelerant to their mix, surfing unhinged on razorblade riffs and pressing down the gas pedal in a way that bites into vice akin to their UK peers Idles.
When Bambara leaves nothingness to smoulder, the results can render a duality in their violent romanticism, be it heavently (”Made for Me”) or full of fire and brimstone (“Machete”.) Maybe it is the Devil who should be asking Bambara what he desires in exchange for whatever they’re harnessing, because as Stray professes, any work that finds its way through the shadows and can stare death straight in the eyes without flinching is on the level of some kind of unholy godliness.
The album, Stray (out on Feb. 14 via Wharf Cat Records),
The first thing that strikes you about Stray, Bambara’s fourth – and greatest – album to date, will be its pulverizing soundscape. By turns, vast, atmospheric, cool, broiling and, at times – on stand out tracks like Sing Me To The Street and Serafina – simply overwhelming. But “Stray” is not merely another, better entry in a catalogue full of darkly thrilling, blistering experimental rock-via-punk. Rather, early on in its conception the band made the decision to experiment with new compositions and song structures.
Bambara – made up of twin brothers Reid and Blaze Bateh, singer/guitarist and drummer respectively, and bassist William Brookshire – have been evolving their midnight-black noise into something more subtle and expansive ever since the release of their 2013 debut Dreamviolence. That process greatly accelerated on 2018’s Shadow On Everything, their first on Wharf Cat Records and a huge stride forward for the band both lyrically and sonically.
The resulting addition of backing vocals from Drew Citron (Public Practice) and Anina Ivory-Block (Palberta) create a hauntingly beautiful contrast to Bateh’s drunken baritone on tracks like Sing Me to the Street, Death Croons and Stay Cruel, while the Dick Dale-inspired guitar riffs on Serafina and Heat Lightning and the call-and-response choruses throughout the album showcase Bambara’s ability to write songs that immediately demand repeat listen.
To start, the band did what they always do: they locked themselves in their windowless Brooklyn basement to write. Decisions were made early on to try and experiment with new instrumentation and song structures, even if the resulting compositions would force the band to adapt their storied live set, known for its tenacity and technical prowess. Throughout the songwriting process, the band pulled from their deep well of creative references, drawing on the likes of Leonard Cohen, Ennio Morricone, Sade, classic French noir L’Ascenseur Pour L’Echafraud, as well as Southern Gothic stalwarts Flannery O’Connor and Harry Crews.
it would be wrong to characterize Stray as simply the sound of the graveyard. Light frequently streams through and, whether refracted through the love and longing found on songs like “Made for Me” or the fantastical nihilism on display in tracks like the anthemic “Serafina,” reveals this album to be the monumental step forward that it is. Here Bambara sound like they’ve locked into what they were always destined to achieve, and the effect is nothing short of electrifying.
Bambara is Reid Bateh, Blaze Bateh and William Brookshire
Reid Bateh – Vocals, Guitar, Noise
Blaze Bateh – Drums, Percussion, Organ
William Brookshire – Bass, Synth, Piano
Ani Ivry-Block – Backing Vocals
Drew Citron – Backing Vocals
Adam Markiewicz – Violin
Sean Smith – Trumpet
These are just a few of the changes that reveal this album to be the monumental step forward that it is. Here Bambara finally sound like they’ve locked into what they were always destined to achieve, and the effect is nothing short of electrifying. For fans of Protomartyr, Daughters and IDLES.
Bambara have been around long enough that you should know by now what to expect from one of their séance-punk records, but “Miracle” is still a “Smells Like Teen Spirit”–caliber opener. If vaguely familiar VH1 talking heads ever heard this song, they’d be like, “I remember exactly where I was when I heard Bambara’s ‘Miracle,’ and I remember I just froze. I was like, ‘umm, what is this!?,’” or something to that effect. With Stray being particularly infused with themes of death, the album’s opener introduces the impending macabre with chilling gothic blues that strip Pop. 1280 of their title as best Nick Cave homage.
The thing you won’t be able to avoid on Bambara’s latest album “Stray” is death. It’s everywhere and inescapable, abstract and personified ,perhaps the key to the whole record. Death, however, won’t be the first thing that strikes you about the group’s fourth and greatest album to date. That instead will be its pulverising soundscape; by turns, vast, atmospheric, cool, broiling and at times
Stand out tracks like “Sing Me To The Street” and “Serafina” simply overwhelming Bambara are twin brothers Reid and Blaze Bateh, singer/guitarist and drummer respectively, and bassist William Brookshire – have been evolving their midnight-black noise into something more subtle and expansive ever since the release of their 2013 debut Dreamviolence. That process greatly accelerated on 2018’s Shadow On Everything, their first on New York’sWharf Cat Records and a huge stride forward for the band both lyrically and sonically.
The album was rapturously received by the press, listeners and their peers. NPR called it a “mesmerising…western, gothic opus,” Bandcamp called the “horror-house rampage” “one of the year’s most gripping listens,” Shadow also garnered much acclaim on the other side of the Atlantic. Influential British 6Music DJ Steve Lamacq, dubbed them the best band of 2019’s SXSW, and Joe Talbot of the UK band IDLES said, “The best thing I heard last year was easily Bambara and their album Shadow On Everything.”
The question was, though, how to follow it? To start, the band did what they always do: they locked themselves in their windowless Brooklyn basement to write. Decisions were made early on to try and experiment with new instrumentation and song structures, even if the resulting compositions would force the band to adapt their storied live set, known for its tenacity and technical prowess. Throughout the songwriting process, the band pulled from their deep well of creative references, drawing on the likes of Leonard Cohen, Ennio Morricone, Sade, classic French noir L’Ascenseur Pour L’Echafraud, as well as Southern Gothic stalwarts Flannery O’Connor and Harry Crews. Once the building blocks were set in place, they met with producer Drew Vandenberg, who mixed Shadow On Everything, in Athens, GA to record the foundation of Stray.
After recruiting friends Adam Markiewicz (The Dreebs) on violin, Sean Smith (Klavenauts) on trumpet and a crucial blend of backing vocals by Drew Citron (Public Practice) and Anina Ivry-Block (Palberta), Bambara convened in a remote cabin in rural Georgia, where Reid laid down his vocals.
The finished product represents both the band’s most experimental and accessible work to date. The addition of Citron and Ivory-Block’s vocals create a hauntingly beautiful contrast to Bateh’s commanding baritone on tracks like “Sing Me to the Street”, “Death Croons” and “Stay Cruel,” while the Dick Dale inspired guitar riffs on “Serafina” and “Heat Lightning” and the call-and-response choruses throughout the album showcase Bambara’s ability to write songs that immediately demand repeat listens. While the music itself is evocative and propulsive, a fever dream all of its own, the lyrical content pushes the record even further into its own darkly thrilling realm. If the songs on Shadow On Everything were like chapters in a novel, then this time they’re short stories. Short stories connected by death and its effect on the characters in contact with it. “Death is what you make it” runs a lyric in “Sweat,” a line which may very well be the thread that ties these stories together.
But it would be wrong to characterize Stray as simply the sound of the graveyard. Light frequently streams through and, whether refracted through the love and longing found on songs like “Made for Me” or the fantastical nihilism on display in tracks like the anthemic “Serafina,” reveals this album to be the monumental step forward that it is. Here Bambara sound like they’ve locked into what they were always destined to achieve, and the effect is nothing short of electrifying.
Their narrative-based songs may be completely out of step with what’s happening in music right now, but that leaves plenty of room for New York City outfit Bambara to shine. Their gothic rock is gripping and shadowy, and Reid Bateh unfurls lines about characters who are much the same. Their new album, Stray, follows 2018’s Shadow on Everything.
“Heat Lightning” is from the album “Stray” out on 14th February 2020 . Order your LP/CD/Special Edition LP now.
One thing you won’t be able to avoid on Bambara’s “Stray” is death. It’s everywhere and inescapable, abstract and personified – perhaps the key to the whole record. Death, however, won’t be the first thing that strikes you about the group’s fourth – and greatest – album to date. That instead will be its pulverising soundscape; by turns, vast, atmospheric, cool, broiling and at times – on stand out tracks like “Sing Me To The Street” and “Serafina” – simply overwhelming
Bambara are twin brothers Reid and Blaze Bateh, singer/guitarist and drummer respectively, and bassist William Brookshire – have been evolving their midnight-black noise into something more subtle and expansive ever since the release of their 2013 debut Dreamviolence. That process greatly accelerated on 2018’s Shadow On Everything, their first on New York’s Wharf Cat Records and a huge stride forward for the band both lyrically and sonically.
The album was rapturously received by the press, listeners and their peers. NPR called it a “mesmerising…western, gothic opus,” Bandcamp called the “horror-house rampage” “one of the year’s most gripping listens,” and Alexis Marshall of Daughters named it his “favorite record of 2018.” Shadow also garnered much acclaim on the this side of the Atlantic. Influential British 6Music DJ Steve Lamacq, dubbed them the best band of 2019’s SXSW, and Joe Talbot of the UK band IDLES said, “The best thing I heard last year was easily Bambara and their album Shadow On Everything.” The question was, though, how to follow it?
To start, the band did what they always do: they locked themselves in their windowless Brooklyn basement to write. Decisions were made early on to try and experiment with new instrumentation and song structures, even if the resulting compositions would force the band to adapt their storied live set, known for its tenacity and technical prowess. Throughout the songwriting process, the band pulled from their deep well of creative references, drawing on the likes of Leonard Cohen, Ennio Morricone, Sade, classic French noir L’Ascenseur Pour L’Echafraud, as well as Southern Gothic stalwarts Flannery O’Connor and Harry Crews.
Once the building blocks were set in place, they met with producer Drew Vandenberg, who mixed Shadow On Everything, in Athens, GA to record the foundation of Stray. After recruiting friends Adam Markiewicz (The Dreebs) on violin, Sean Smith (Klavenauts) on trumpet and a crucial blend of backing vocals by Drew Citron (Public Practice) and Anina Ivry-Block (Palberta), Bambara convened in a remote cabin in rural Georgia, where Reid laid down his vocals.
The finished product represents both the band’s most experimental and accessible work to date. The addition of Citron and Ivory-Block’s vocals create a hauntingly beautiful contrast to Bateh’s commanding baritone on tracks like “Sing Me to the Street”, “Death Croons” and “Stay Cruel,” while the Dick Dale inspired guitar riffs on “Serafina” and “Heat Lightning” and the call-and-response choruses throughout the album showcase Bambara’s ability to write songs that immediately demand repeat listens.
While the music itself is evocative and propulsive, a fever dream all of its own, the lyrical content pushes the record even further into its own darkly thrilling realm. If the songs on Shadow On Everything were like chapters in a novel, then this time they’re short stories. Short stories connected by death and its effect on the characters in contact with it. “Death is what you make it” runs a lyric in “Sweat,” a line which may very well be the thread that ties these stories together.
The Fat Angel Sings 