Some of the songs entertain you and some of the songs crawl under your skin and don't come out. The latest of the Burbs is very much the latter. You don't hear 'There's No Time For Presents', you feel it in your bones, a bleeding raw nerve of emotion played out in music so keen your flesh continues to itch when it goes out.
First of all, Brook Mckeon's voice conveys this sort of sheer vulnerability, like he's whispering secrets straight into your ear and every word means something. The acoustic arrangement of this creates an intimate space, where plucked strings and breaths between the lyrics are important. We did that percussion with a pocketknife. Genius! It's supposed not to, but it does – the unsettling texture it produces matches the emotional landscape of the song the ideal way.
Here magic is in restraint. Unlike other bands that beef up their layers for intensity, The Burbs realise that sometimes the most intense is the most quiet. The maturity in their songwriting which we can truly get excited about, is demonstrated by the way the track builds so subtly, so reluctantly towards a peak of emotional climax.
Full attention is demanded here and quite frankly, this is the type of track you need to sit with, lights dimmed with headphones on for it to become apparent. It's further proof that The Burbs aren't just another indie rock band, but are an artist group capable of reaching real emotional resonance in a moment. after listening hearing it i was mad to hit replay to hear it again to feel it again. That's special.
