Rock festivals and arenas don’t book themselves, and British Sea Power have never shied away from asking, “how about us?” The Cumbrian eccentrics aren’t alone in putting themselves out there like that, and they’ve done so reliably since 2005’s Open Season. But the lingering impression left by their brazen debut The Decline of British Sea Power-- the on-stage taxidermy, the military uniforms, the literal shout-outs to Russian literature-- has given everything since an air of audacity even as they spent the subsequent decade moving ever closer to the middle of the road. Machineries of Joy doesn’t take long to dispel any notions about this being anything other than British Sea Power growing more comfortable within their niche; if you like the idea of grandiose, yet compact rock songs filled with arcane literary and historical references, you’ll appreciate its mere existence. If not, Machineries of Joy isn’t going to do much to change your mind.
Machineries of Joy is a more enjoyable experience on the whole than 2011’s Valhalla Dancehall, a record of protracted diversity that only ended up confirming that there's just one kind of song British Sea Power do well. Wisely, the opening title track of Machineries of Joy is six minutes of that one kind of song. “We are magnificent machineries of joy” makes for a fitting thesis, as the band industriously doles out signifiers of natural highs, sighing strings, Kraut-rock propulsion, and ringing guitar chords that evoke the sensation alluded to in the closing bookend, “When a Warm Wind Blows Through the Grass”. The appropriately sylvan “Spring Has Sprung” and “Hail Holy Queen” make similarly disarming and self-evident declarations of British Sea Power’s reigning status as British indie's most literate nature boys.
But most of Yan's lyrics fail to appreciate or reflect the simplicity of his surroundings. Even if British Sea Power is five albums (and one soundtrack) deep, he still maintains the overzealous poetic fervor of a college freshman; when Yan informs the listener “you are a vision of extraordinary contortion/ An athletic form of warm distortion,” it’s hard to not shrug your shoulders and think, “I am?”
Book smarts and pop ambition aren't incompatible; problem is, British Sea Power continue to be a band that’s well-read but emotionally illiterate. On “What You Need the Most”, Yan sighs “You were my Pyrex baby,” which would admittedly make a decent construct for a Pusha T song. But hearing nearly six minutes of punning on the physical properties of glass (see: “getting smashed,” “cracked”) proves more tiresome than its waltz-time lurch. Then there's the would-be pep talk “Radio Goddard”, which is actively frustrating. Note the spelling: It’s not Godard, as in Jean-Luc, someone potentially recognizable to most people who’d come across Machineries of Joy. It’s most likely Robert H. Goddard, the physicist best known for developing the first liquid-fueled rocket after withstanding considerable criticism from the press. So after a couple minutes' research, the call to “tune yourself to radio Goddard” starts to make sense-- but is the point to make you feel smart if you know the reference, or to make British Sea Power look smart if you don't?
On the other hand, playing dumb isn't in their best interest either. Witness "K Hole", hootin' and hollerin' garage rock that admirably makes a spectacle of itself, but as someone whose lyrics and demeanor are more Ahab than Tarzan, Yan doesn't take naturally to the role of wild man belter. Even putting aside its awkward melody, "Loving Animals" makes its point very clear and still comes off more like anthropology than erotica.
If you've been keeping up with British Sea Power to this point, none of this should be a surprise; inverting the pursuits of the solitary, the naturalist and the academic into subjects for populist music has been their M.O. for over a decade. And yet, Machineries of Joy lacks the kind of crucial equalizers that appeal to all levels of education-- big hooks, convincing physicality, legible emotions. In other words, the exact things that they promised by rhetorically asking Do You Like Rock Music? on their gigantic 2008 album. It was seen as cheeky back then, but as with Valhalla Dancehall, the detachment of Machineries of Joy flips the question: does British Sea Power like rock music?
