Proclaiming itself to be the first ever “post-rock opera”, Don’t Tell The Driver is like a dream; you don’t know whether it holds all the secrets of the universe or is complete gobbledegook, but it’s captivating all the same.
Also like dreams, the album doesn’t play out in a logical fashion. It’s not made up of individual songs as much as one sustained mood, and opener All Gone gets things off to a shaky start. Luckily, the soothing organ in track two Sometimes puts the listener at ease, and from there the album’s beauty is revealed and sustained until the end.
Anytime there’s a horn section (as on Long Way Home), or vocals (like the sudden harmony in the title track), the results are marvellous. The horns are understated and mournful, while the vocals – absent for the majority of time – give the listener something to cling to. In particular, the title track is where all of Turner’s seeming jumble of ideas coalesce. Sudden, reversed spasms of sound jostle up against sparse guitar and piano. A brilliant piece of work.
There’s no musical turns out of left field throughout the album (unlike Turner’s work in The Dirty Three, there’s no release in any of these songs), so if you like the sound of the album you’ll like it all. And because it has Turner’s signature guitar style all over it, presumably any Turner fans will enjoy this.
Whether or not the claim that it’s a “post-rock opera” is true or just a nice marketing tool is hard to say, and in the end irrelevant. It’s best just to spend time with this lovely album and make sense of it yourself.
BY LEONARDO SILVESTRINI
Best Track: Don’t Tell The Driver
If You Like These, You’ll Like This: THE DIRTY THREE, JIM O’ROURKE, TORTOISE
In A Word: Narcoleptic
