While I rarely venture into contemporary pop music, I must make an exception for Florence + The Machine. This British band was first brought to my attention by my wife, who is a great admirer of the group and especially of lead singer Florence Welch. I could not refuse Ioana’s invitation to check out the band’s recent hit single, “What the Water Gave Me,” especially after torturing her with Marc Ribot’s Rootless Cosmopolitans (an acquired taste she unfortunately never really acquired).
Perhaps if I had listened to the song on the radio or had just been exposed to the studio version, I might have merely enjoyed it, but my wife played me the live version from Later with Jools Holland and I was absolutely enchanted. The song is creepy enough to warrant attention on its own, but it’s the charming voice and powerful stage presence of Florence Welch that jumps out at the first-time listener and offers a take on “pop music” which, to me, feels fresh and exciting. I decided to check out more of their work and naturally started with their debut album Lungs.
Florence + The Machine’s music started with the friendship and collaboration of Florence Welch, the vocalist, and Isabella Summers, the band’s keyboard player, percussionist, producer, DJ and all-around Jill-of-all-trades. In time, the band gained a few more members, namely: guitar player Robert Ackroyd, harpist (!) Tom Monger, bass player Mark Saunders, and standout drummer Christopher Lloyd Hayden (keep an eye out for this guy!). While they’re all great musicians in their own right, one can immediately tell that the band is built as a vehicle for the voice and talent of Florence Welch.
Her intense presence dominates the record. Of course, the lead singer is almost always the face and “personality” of the band, but Florence brings to that role an earnestness and raw emotion that is refreshing for a pop scene that usually has bands either stay conservatively within certain well-defined bounds or completely stray away from the beaten path merely for the love of being “different.”
Florence offers the listener a sound with a distinct and honest identity. Her love for aesthetic maximalism shines through, but never so much as to turn her efforts into a gimmick. (though the harp is right on the brink of that sometimes, only inches away from being overused)
The harp is actually the first thing the listener gets to hear on Lungs. The instrument opens the very intelligently placed first track, “Dog Days Are Over,” a song that is very representative of what one can expect from this album and a charming and inviting opening tune.
Florence, at certain times sings, other times she yells in a voice that is at the same time very complex but also refreshingly unpolished. Light-years away from a clean-cut Celine Dion or Mariah Carey, Florence offers a voice that adapts to the momentary need of the song. She will sing, she will coo, she’ll whisper and sigh and, if necessary, flat-out scream from the top of her lungs. To me, the effect of this is that, as a listener, you tend to get bored with her voice and it never gets irritating.
“Rabbit Heart (Raise it Up)” continues in the same manner while adding to that the first taste of typical Florence symbolism, but the record’s excellent start hits a bit of a bump with“I`m Not Calling You a Liar” which, in spite of not being bad, and with some interesting lyrics, fails to live up to the album’s powerful beginning.
This, in fact, seems like a pattern on the record, with very complex, well-developed songs at times interrupted by underwhelming and sometimes flat-out disappointing ones (I’m looking at you, “Hurricane Drunk”). Luckily, the great songs outnumber the not-so-great ones, and the album offers many excellent compositions from a generous thirteen tracks. Still, I have to wonder how tracks like“Hurricane Drunk” and “Girl With One Eye” (not necessarily a weak song, but terribly misplaced on this record) ever made it past bonus tracks.
One of my favorites is “Howl,” a very catchy tune with interesting lyrics (a werewolf analogy of all things), which I wouldn`t be surprised to even hear at a club somewhere. In fact, if clubs were playing more songs like this, I’d start getting out more.
The record continues with “Kiss With a Fist,” an instant charmer not to be taken literally. (I broke your jaw once before/ I spilled your blood upon the floor/ You broke my leg in return/ So let`s sit back and watch the bed burn/Love sticks, Sweat drips/ Break the lock if it don’t fit/ A kick in the teeth is good for some/ A kiss with a fist is better than none)
If not interrupted by the strangely misplaced “Girl with One Eye,” the album would have continued with another instant charmer, namely “Drumming Song,” a track that delivers just what it promises. Every time I get to see it live, I enjoy the talent of Chris Haydn, who, aside from Florence herself, gets to shine the most on the record. In fact, I feel like his drums and her voice complement each other brilliantly.
“Between Two Lungs” is a calmer tune and the perfect setup for the album’s absolute highlight: “Cosmic Love.”
This more mature song is, in a way, a preview of the band’s next album, Ceremonials, a collection that, although more complex and “grown-up”, also lacks the freshness and vigor of Lungs.
If I were to recommend just one song off this album, though, especially as an introduction to Florence + The Machine and their music, it would most certainly be “Cosmic Love.” It is a perfect blend of everything this band stands for, from the lead singers powerful voice and stage presence, to Haydn and his perfectly executed drums (watch out for the “beating heart” when Florence says I heard your heart beating/you were in the darkness too) and the spice that is Mongers harp in just the right amount to add flavor without distracting from the track as a whole.
“Cosmic Love” is an excellent song on an album that is already very good (perhaps just some uninspired song placement away from being great). From “Cosmic Love” onwards, the record loses steam with “My Boy Builds Coffins,” “Hurricane Drunk,” and “Blinding Light,” only to end on a somewhat higher (if a bit stranger note) with their take on “You’ve Got The Love,” the 1986 ode to the Savior by The Source and Candi Staton. While Florence’s take on it is great, I’m sure Lungs as a whole would have been much more powerful had it ended with “Cosmic Love.”
As a whole, Florence Welch and her “Machine” have managed to create a recording with a distinct personality that comes off as honest and passionate. Lungs feels like a breath of fresh air in the musical genre that needs it the most nowadays.
The Music and Myth 