Gary Numan ­ Splinter (Songs From A Broken Mind)

Dark thought this record is, it’s not depressing, and it doesn’t bring you down. Cathartic maybe, listenable definitely. Loveable? Very probably.

Dark thought this record is, it’s not depressing, and it doesn’t bring you down. Cathartic maybe, listenable definitely. Loveable? Very probably.

 

Warning. Numan connoisseurs look away now! I admit my knowledge of the man starts and ends with Cars. So why then am I reviewing the new (and twentieth, no less!) album by an artist who has been around for so long, influenced so many musicians and who carries so much cultural baggage that he can rightly take the title “icon”? Maybe I am the perfect the person to. When an “icon” releases new material, fans bring their history to the table. I am coming to this album, so to speak, fresh.

It’s immediately obvious that Numan is not opting to be his own tribute band; ­ one imagines it would be only too easy to add little touches that would hark back to his chart climbing days. Sure there are reference points here. As you would expect, there’s a sensibility and style here that does connect to Numan’s vintage era and his voice proves itself to be much more recognisable than you might have thought; that borderline sweet / wounded yodel of his is in top form here. But for those of us who are new to the party the three things that hit you straight away are the epic darkness of the sound, the raw, at times almost painful, honesty of the lyrics and ­ this could be the shocker ­ just how current it sounds. In fact, it puts you in mind of is a soundtrack to a contemporary action film or a high endgame. When you learn that Splinter was produced  by longtime Numan collaborator Ade Fenton who also does film and TV soundtracks and that Numan has relocated to California, it all makes sense.

Take the opener, I Am Dust. Obscenely distorted guitar and synth gasps, jackboot drums, percussive glitches and a whole lot of eerie space perfectly exemplify what you are in for. Epic, disturbing, suspenseful. You’re instantly in a movie. From the chilling whispered verses of Here In The Black to the gothic dancefloor electro of Love Hurt Bleed to the almost dubbed out elements and processed vocals of A Shadow Falls On Me (which have a vulnerable yet twisted side to them), this is pretty heavy stuff, and as a whole Splinter feels a bit like a concept album. Songs from somebody’s nervous breakdown circa 2075, maybe.

Yet, there is beauty and light as well as shade. The songs that most haunt and affect are the songs which manage to combine the darkness with a very stark vulnerability. The album highlight, Lost, a very simple but totally engrossing ballad about realising that a relationship is over. The production stays minimal and lets the lyrics and vocals carry it. And that’s just it. Dark thought this record is, it’s not depressing, and it doesn’t bring you down. Cathartic maybe, listenable definitely. Loveable? Very probably.