The Amber Bugs has always been a band that does things in its own idiosyncratic way. Musically, theirs is an ever-shifting, fluid world of influences and infusions, meaning that just because you got a handle on their last single doesn’t mean you will be clued up about what comes next. Consciously or otherwise, red herrings are the name of the game. If you don’t like surprises, The Amber Bugs might not be for you. But, if you consider yourself a discerning and broad-minded music aficionado, read on.
In keeping with their desire to do things differently, they have gone against the current fashion of vomiting music into the world the moment it is recorded, to be released across every outlet imaginable, from the latest cutting-edge social media platform to the most antiquated pigeon post, playing the numbers game and hoping that enough of their music lands favourably enough to get the track to some meaningless chart position.
Sketches/Sculptures, their latest 10-track double EP, is only available to their MAILING LIST. How’s that for old school? But then, it is more than just a collection of music. With a copious amount of background notes, multimedia add-ons, explanations and tangental musings; these “Deep Dives” are enough to fully immerse you into the world of The Amber Bugs. Such musical depth would be wasted on the youth of today anyway. Not a subscriber to their mailing list? Hopefully, by the time you have finished reading this, it will be the next thing on your to-do list.
Ordinarily. I don’t subscribe to a track-by-track review of an album, but this is no ordinary band and no ordinary release. Given that the songs are just the musical tip of a bigger thought-provoking iceberg, this is the logical and perfect approach. Shall we?
Kicking off Sculptures, the more sonically grandiloquent side of the package is the logically titled “Here’s Where It Begins”, a strange (a word that you hear a lot in my Bugs reviews but it is always meant in a positive way, meaning original, beguiling and outside the box) and ever-evolving song, taking in a sort of shonky New Orleans jazz, classical piano flows, an oompah groove, spoken word interludes and anthem musical theatre vibes. It begs you, dear listener, to take their hand, friend and stranger, the confident and the shy alike and go with them on this musical journey. (God, I hate that phrase; it’s so X-Factor, but in this case, it feels right.)
Included on the page, past the explanation of the reason behind the song’s existence and the lyrics, you find plenty of other interesting pieces. Firstly, we find a video of Bugmaster Ben Kelly interviewing Shaun Buswell, whose band, the imaginatively titled Buswell, and via his ambitious band/orchestral challenges as Buswell & Nyberg, has featured several Amber Bugs players over the years. Over numerous boozy shots, they discuss their shared understanding of what can be achieved when you push yourself beyond creative common sense.
Below this lays videos of an acoustic version of the song, a sneaky peek at the lush percussion as its recorded and a guided walk through the tracking and mixing of the orchestral ending to the song. Now, I’m not going to be able to go into such detail with every song unless you want this to turn into an article the size of War and Peace, but this does give you an idea of precisely the wealth of media and information that is found associated with each of the ten tracks found here.
Contrastingly, “Happy” is the first track from the Sketches side, and this less-than-logical order of events allows you to see the difference between the two fab and groovy waxings, as we used to call them. As this song demonstrates, this flip side is the sound of the band recording everything live, as it happens, warts and all, giving you an idea of what the band sounds like live.
Here, they delve into the idea of what happiness really is, following in the footsteps of great songwriters and making the observation that happy people never write genuinely great songs…do they? Not often. And also about being careful when people tell you that they have the key to happiness…do they? Do they really? Does anybody? But the song comes from a place of great respect even as its more acoustic questioning turns into a squalling, noisy diss song aimed at the musical great and good. But the ultimate question of life, the universe and everything posed here is this: is the pursuit of happiness merely for its own ends a credible and worthwhile endeavour? I’ll leave that one with you.
Will Irlam from The Ha’pennies is questioned over the obligatory shots about the subject matter in the song, songwriting in general, and their shared past. Don’t expect ancient truths regarding happiness to be revealed, but isn’t that the point being made?
“The Protagonist” is a wonderful blend of beat and beguiling sonic interludes, a brilliant blend of pub sing-along and metalcore salvos, retro surf riffs and post-punk drive, ethereal washes and folky fiddle. Who else could you get such a mix from? The song explores the idea of the hero in a story, and the notes below explore the Seven Basic Plots as discussed in Christopher Brooker‘s book about storytelling, as well as the stages of the hero’s journey in literary structure. As the band put it, it’s all meta.
Meg Cavanaugh of Lady Petrol is in the spotlight in the interview chair, and Dan Harmon discusses the art of storytelling.
Amber Bug Sam James takes over for the next one. “Holding Back” is his song, after all. It’s a more straightforward indie song based on a consistent groove, no sonic tangents, interludes, or meanders, but still full of the right amount of quintessential Bugginess. It discusses notions of isolation and loneliness but then reminds us that from such a place, it might be easier than you think to pull yourself up to something more satisfying. Maybe. I’m not a doctor.
There is some cool rehearsal footage, and then Sam and Ben, the two guitarists for the band, discuss writing the song, its “wonky tonality,” their music’s longevity, band collaboration and the wise words of Terry Pratchett. It even gives you the guitar chords just in case you fancy playing along.
“Pigs Are Alright” is a typically Buggy title, and it is indeed a typically Buggy song, if there is such a thing. Ben admits that he loves pigs, but the pig in question here is the one that inspired the phrase “Happy As A Pig In Shit.” He must be a happy chap, don’t you think, to have such a well-used phrase named after him. And it is a happy song, though happy in that slightly melancholy way, that The Amber Bugs do so well.
The song swaggers and stomps around a shuffling groove, bass lines seem to coo, brass stabs and swoons, pianos flit through, and by the end, you are all singing along to the vocal refrain. Believe me. But, of course, a bigger idea lies at the heart of the song. Contentment leads to a static existence; only through discomfort and pain does anything change for the better. They are not wrong.
Those who are really digging the deep dives will be interested to find the original demo as a video, essential if you want to learn that impossible bass run, something which sounds like the sort of thing that Paul Simon would have coaxed out of his world-beating session players during the making of Graceland. I know Ben will love that reference, but it is also true.
“Existential Glee / Existential Dread” feels like it comes from the same sort of place where Madness or Chas ‘n’ Dave gathered their inspirations, a strangely jaunty piece, though by the time the chorus kicks in, it feels slightly bi-polar, which given the title, I guess it is. Lyrically, it takes us from one extreme to the other, happiness to rage, throughout the course of a day and is philosophical in a teeny-angsty-punky sort of way, like an emo kid who has just discovered Emily Dickinson or old Freddy Nietzsche.
The associated deep dive explores such philosophical matters and provides a short and sweet reading list for those who want to know more. The booze and views section features Death.Is.No.End, who provides the artwork for many of The Amber Bugs’ releases. Here, the masked artist discusses the band, the song, the recording process, and more in a way that only two long-term friends can.
We are also introduced to The Ologies (those of a certain age are now picturing Maureen Lipman in her BT advert mum mode. ” You get an ology, you’re a scientist.” No? Just me then.) for no other reason than that their joyous infectiousness inspires Ben, not to mention that they sound like a cracking band.
If you think the band has already shown its more adventurous side so far, “My My My” is where they get truly avant-garde, at least to begin with. The opening salvo sounds like Miles Davis at his free jazz pinnacle falling down a flight of stairs. But just as it is close to testing the listener’s patience, everything falls into line, and a funky rock song emerges, one that plays with colourful metaphors and discusses how we wear our scars and bruises as badges of honour.
From here, we plunge into the world of colour. The accompanying text explains ideas such as qualia and synesthesia and explores more of Isaac Newton‘s work with optics. Something I wish more bands would do.
Band members Ben and George then discuss the song, which was brought to the band when the erstwhile drummer joined the gang. After much tweaking, rearranging, editing, and adding, the song eventually found a way to fit into the band’s set. An original version of the track is also included so you can judge, as they discuss, how much of it made it through to the one found on Sketches/Sculptures.
If The Amber Bugs are great at hiding the meanings of their songs under a sonic bushel, presenting something that might seem lyrically throwaway for those not prepared to dig in, “Drain” is a perfect example of this in action. Over some sonic wailing and gnashing of guitars, this piece of angular pop-punk, for want of a better term, comes on like some warped song about boys and girls, love and longing, toxicity and tease…perhaps…but is actually about climate change and humanities relationship with the planet.
An acoustic version reminds us that even the most volume-driven and velocitous songs start with a simple musical idea…after all, as someone wiser than me said, any song that can be played on just an acoustic guitar is a proper song…actually, not wiser than me, it was Noel Gallagher, but even he makes a valid point now and again when not scamming his fans on ticket money.
Ben is joined by Ben Hughes to discuss the recording of Sketches as an as-live process, political songs, Mr H’s new album, and absinthe drinking.
“The Increasingly Bitter Inner-monologue of the Man on The Clapham Omnibus” is a brilliantly relatable trawl through the mind of the everyman. The man on The Clapham Omnibus is a legal term for the balanced and innocent man in the street, the working class, the oiks like you and me. Well, maybe not you, but certainly me.
If you feel that as you get older, you feel less accepting, grumpier, less part of the world, less accommodating, and less happy, this might just be your soundtrack. But as we saw earlier, no one happy ever wrote a truly great song, and it is a cool and slinky piece of blues-jazz that might go some way to countering that growing sense of existential dread. (That again!)
Nat the Hammer from The Reverse is Ben’s drinking buddy to discuss politics and songwriting. The studio diary reveals the moment this song obtained its verbose and excellent title. For those interested in etymology who don’t happen to have a copy of Brewer’s Phrase and Fable to hand (and if not, why not), there is more info on the titular bloke on the bus.
And finally, way past my bedtime, not to mention my proposed word count, we come to “The As Yet Unwritten Big Beat Banger.” A ska-infused groover that may be a song about not being able to write a song, or about how you never come off looking good when you try to do take the most positive course of action, or about a midlife crisis. It might just be an excuse to break out the fuzz pedals, smack the drums around and throw around some sixties backing vocals. Whatever it is about, it is also about four and a half minutes, is about as joyous a song as you will have heard in a while and is about as great a way to wrap up this brace of EPs as you can get.
Nora and Dan from the aforementioned Ologies join Ben for one last round to talk songwriting and Jagermeister. There are even some crib notes about Japanese life philosophies and a neat acoustic take of the song.
And that, as they say, is that. Except it isn’t. Due to space, attention spans, and a wish not to give away all the surprises, that is only part of it. And, for obvious reasons, there aren’t any tracks in question found here other than a few alternative versions and demos to whet your appetite.
So you know what to do next. Sign up for the mailing list, open the sonic archives and experience one of the most marvellous and mercurial bands of the modern age. (Can I stop typing now, my fingers hurt?)
