Album review: British India, Controller

It seems somewhat ironic that British India’s fourth LP should be called Controller, when recent events beyond the band’s control nearly spelled the end of the Melbourne four-piece. Just a few months after the release of their third record, Avalanche, in April 2010, the band found themselves tangled in the mess of the liquidation of Shock Records. Reportedly owed a significant amount of money from a label in receivership, it should have been enough to finish a band that, despite having three records under their belt and success on the ARIA charts, were still finding their feet amongst the big guns of Australian rock music. But the high school mates have shown great resilience over the past 18 months and are now back in control. British India have got themselves a new label and later this month will release their fourth record, and boy, it’s a goody.

I, like presumably many others out there, have whole-heartedly embraced a number of British India singles in the past. Tie Up My Hands, Run the Red Light, I Said I’m Sorry–even Beneath the Satellites–were all fantastic tracks. However, as much as I have enjoyed singing my little heart out to many a British India hook in my time, I have always found it hard to sit down and listen to a British India album in full, largely because of Declan Melia’s distinctive/samey vocals. Pleasingly, a real effort seems to have been made to inject some diversity into the band’s sound.

The record opens familiarly enough with the anthemic Plastic Souvenirs. With its catchy “Don’t you hang up” hook and marching band drumbeat it triumphantly marks the band’s return – after all the shit they’ve been through, they’re still here. You start to notice the real change in style from track two, Blinded. A poppy harmony leads you into the track and what’s waiting is surprising: Melia’s delivery is heartfelt and emotive – soft even. This, juxtaposed with his signature high register wail, makes for some top listening. And it’s not just Melia’s vocals that have been softened up either. The finger-picked minor chords that open first single from the record, I Can Make You Love Me reek of melancholy and the closing track Crystals, with its gentle acoustic guitar and tinkling piano, wouldn’t sound out of place on a folk release.

For a band that considers themselves to be a punk outfit, even in light of their chart success and seemingly infallible ability to write a pop song, not being quite so pissed off all the time seems to have paid off.Controller is a balanced fourth release from a band that surely – to borrow Melia’s own phrase – won’t be “just outside of international recognition” for much longer.