The members of Bizali seem to be the spiritual cahiers-du-cinema alumni of the Bristol alt scene; Dance Yourself Alone is not necessarily a Parisian coming of age story, but it does seem to be crafted by people who have considerably more listening hours logged than a 17 year old MySpace homemade jewellery seller whose vocabulary consists mostly of “hey”, “let’s”, “start, “a”, and “band”. Yes, Bizali are scholars; every choice on this album is exacting, crucial – each being the result of understanding the aesthetics of modern indie alt rock implicitly. Putting that PHD to work, the result is a disc that spins as much a musician’s album as it does a comforting indie epic. There is a tangible theory backbone here, and as such, allows Dance Yourself Alone to be the most competently made album of this style in 2009… Well, behind Tegan And Sara’s Sainthood of course.
Case in point: “Users&Thieves” warms the orchestra up, as each facet that shapes the whole tracklist is introduced in turn. The first revelation is the distinct rhythm department – a powerful bass drum that operates in compound meters, coupled with snares that are comparable with math rock’s finest – Seriously, how often do you get the polymetric groundwork of Don Caballero infused with such an inoffensive indie palette? Bass presence is not relegated to the rhythm section, but dedicated. The smooth bass tone bridges polys with the consistent matching of cymbals and their complementary guitar chords. With all departments working not so much in unison but as a network, why is such instrumental complexity required for a vocally-fixated album?
The off-time-ness of Dance Yourself Alone creates the subconscious sense of incompleteness that goes along with committed rhythms that are not 4/4; there is no closure to the groove, teasing our metronomes to tick off the end of abrupt beats. This is, in part, the key to the omnipotent knowhow that elevates this album. The mental need to resolve the patterns always takes us to the next note, building an inertia that forces the vocals to keep up. The effect is urgency, forming a sonic motion that manifests as voices of heartache. Inspired by the likes of Joanna Newsom and The Tiny, the central voice from track to track annunciates its joys and distresses with authentic drawings: “But you can be so stupid and lose perspective, when all I want is you.” The feminine quality of each phrase is not compromised by the singer’s ability to deliver real hurt, projecting some of the more sincere stanzas through gritted teeth. The collective achieves more than being a less geeky rendition of Ani DiFranco tunes, and finish the album strongly with their best tracks “All I Want” and “Calm”. Bizali play a universally enjoyable style of music, appropriate for any setting, and yet also understand that music is more than soul and feeling: it’s the motion.
(8.0/10)
You may also dig: