"And If All I Ever Get Is A Reticent Heart, I'd Be Falling Madly In Love": A Review of Strange Disciple by Nation of Language

.

BY BERLINDA RECACHO

Music has the phenomenal ability to simultaneously transform and transfix the listener. The music I was drawn to as a teenager struck me like a lightning bolt, set my musical north, and has continued to exert a gravitational pull on my musical orbit ever since. By chance, I hatched at the right moment to be imprinted on by the synthesizer-driven New Wave. The video for The Human League's 1983 hit "(Keep Feeling) Fascination" found the band ostensibly performing within the tiny pink wayfinding dot on a map labeled "You Are Here". These coordinates might have also described my turntable and tape deck, where The Human League were in good company with New Order, The Psychedelic Furs, Erasure, Thompson Twins, Pet Shop Boys, Nation of Language... but wait, the last band in that list happens to be a Brooklyn-based trio whose members weren't even born in the Eighties but sound like they hopped in a time machine from there to here. Lead singer and guitarist Ian Richard Devaney's own musical touchstone was reportedly hearing the manic, frenetic "Electricity", an early track by Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark many years after its advent, and on a cassette, no less. Nation of Language use their collective talents to channel the same urgent, crackling energy on Strange Disciple, their mesmerizing third album. The cadence, tempo, and overall tone of the songs are so on point, it feels like they are actually of that earlier time, not just inspired by it.

I was lucky enough to catch Nation of Language's hour-long set during WTMD's 2023 "First Thursday" series this past September 7th, just ahead of their album release. The sunset over Canton Waterfront Park on the Baltimore Harbor glowed through the translucent stage scrim, silhouetting landmarks and providing a spectacular backdrop for their performance. As Devaney's nuanced vocals soared overhead and Aiden Noell's shimmering keyboards bloomed into bright catchy loops over Alex MacKay's adept and assertive basslines, "Too Much, Enough" was so assured in its style and execution that I was certain I had heard it years before. I observed the band first hand, performing their songs as a unit with a vibrant symmetry. Each member has the ability to take the spotlight and carry a song, then step back to support the others. Noell's skill on the synthesizer can punctuate a sentence or let it run on and on. She commanded the ebullient "Sole Obsession" then stepped back as MacKay's nimble bass drove the haunting, yet insistently danceable "Weak in Your Light" and the adrenaline rush of "Stumbling Still". Devaney's commanding voice turned on a dime from anthemic declarations to spoken mid-song monologues to wistful ballads, amplifying MacKay's agility on the bass and tempering the coolness of Noell's patterns and progressions.

All 10 songs in this strong, concise collection are rife with longing. "Swimming in the Shallow Sea" is dark and moody: a torch song pulsing with reverberating guitar, echoing with layers of vocals and sound. The steady, insistent dance beat behind "Spare Me the Decision" is pierced by alarms, undulating rhythms and sparkling notes. "A New Goodbye" showcases the band's prowess at shifting tempo within the same song, employing synth runs that pay the closest tribute to O.M.D., but with more variability. The verse is bright and staccato, followed by a more subdued sustained chorus, then challenging both to a dance-off/mashup at the end. In "I Will Never Learn" Devaney pays homage to past and future mistakes, calling to mind the resonant monotone of The Human League's Phil Oakey, in the album's most stripped-down arrangement.

Growing up in the Eighties also afforded me the right window of time to experience the heyday of John Hughes's "Brat Pack" films during my formative years. Their soundtracks were equal to (and sometimes better than) the movies themselves. My two favorite songs on Strange Disciple would not be out of place next to "If You Were Here" by Thompson Twins in Sixteen Candles or "Edge of Forever" by The Dream Academy in Ferris Bueller's Day Off. The music is confident and sure but the words belie the vulnerability present just below the surface. The insistent beat of "Surely I Can't" Wait plays against jangly guitar and keys and smooth stretches of synthesized chords. "Truth is better/Better off, I know/ But I can't stand the pain/Rake yourself across the coals/ then you start a love song/I give up/I give in/end result/I find that I'm competitive." This is the voice of the quirky, oddball choice, rallying against the fear of being alone in such an offbeat manner, that you wonder why hasn't someone picked them already? "So could you be the one? Right Away? Surely I can't wait for another," Devaney sings on this side of heartbreak. The lovelorn subject of "Sightseer" is also jaded and weary, confiding, "And if all I ever get is a reticent heart/I'd be falling madly in love." The sweeping melody coalesces into a layered chorus, then instrument by instrument the song disappears into itself with the keyboard sequence repeating one more time like a lighthouse beacon guiding the wayward from disaster.

The New Wave started in Europe and essentially never left, and Nation of Language have cultivated a dedicated fanbase across the Pond where they are currently on tour to great acclaim. We're still behind on this side of the Atlantic, but are steadily catching up; when the band returns to the Baltimore area in December 2023 it will be to a sold-out show at The Atlantis in D.C. It's a strange loop when contemporary artists remind you what it was like to first hear the music of your youth. Strange Disciple captures that liminal place between the looming past and the ever-fleeting present using the common denominator of a certain emotion, one which Bernard Sumner defined in New Order's "Thieves Like Us": "It's called love, and it belongs to us." It also describes the almost instant connection I had with this album. The experience is not just sonic, but also visual. I close my eyes and listen, and I am oscillating wildly in a library; gazing down longingly at swaying couples from the gym's bleachers at a high school dance; rounding the corner, running through the backyards, finding my own way home.

Strange Disciple by Nation of Language is out now.

[Photo: Shervin Lainez]