More about: Ben Howard

Ben Howard has long established himself as Britain’s finest melancholic songsmith. His debut album Every Kingdom - released a whole decade ago - came at a time acoustic folk pop was reaching a peak, full of joyous heartfelt ballads and spritely woodland songs, it launched Howard into the mainstream, earning him two Brit awards in the process (Best Male and Breakthrough).

Whilst extremely successful, it wasn’t an indicator of just how expansive, intricate, and deeply emotive his music would become. Follow-up I Forget Where We Were was hyperfocused on departing from the commercialised acoustic sound into a darker, murkier, and profound realm both within its lyrics and its more complex melodies. 2018's Noonday Dream once more shifted Howard towards a more progressive and expansive direction, in which Howard’s voice became one with a now electronic, distorted buzz, another instrument in a crowded haze. 

This brings us to his new record Collections From The Whiteout, which for once, instead of taking the listener into a challenging new direction, looks back on his discography and melds them into a beautiful package. It’s fitting that at such a significant milestone in his career, Howard has reflected on what has come before, to craft what could well be his most interesting work to date. Production on the record has come from the ever-present Aaron Dessner of The National, known for his incredible orchestration, compositions, and production work with the critically-acclaimed alternative group, as well as recent collaborations with Taylor Swift and partnership with Bon Iver (as Big Red Machine) his stamp can be felt from the immediate moments of opener ‘Follies Fixture’ which is wrapped in a twirling of electronic flutters, a beautiful series of beeps at its heart, Howard and his guitar slowly emerges, like he’s slowly waking from hibernation. Likewise, the excellent ‘Sorry Kid’ grows from an 808 synth drumbeat, into a sublime alternative foot-tapper.

Lead single ‘What A Day’ is simply incredible: it’s not just the highlight of the record, but a fantastic example of the vision for the album as a whole. Howard’s occasional, and always impactful, falsetto is the focal point on this beautiful, almost sarcastically rhetorical acoustic tune as Howard frequently questions “Where does all the time go?”. Its beautiful underlying melody will pull both at your heartstrings and pluck lightly away in your brain for weeks to come. 

Thematically the record is intriguingly existential. ‘Crowhurst’s Meme’, for example, is an “exploration of the undocumented universal side” of the tale of Donald Crowhurst, a British businessman who died at sea in the late sixties. Howard, comparing its wonky synth guitar parts with a feeling of seasickness, drifts his mind off to the tale of Crowhurst. The resulting track leaves you rocking on the wavey synths, guided by Howard’s incredible vocal bed. ‘The Strange Last Flight Of Richard Russell’ meanwhile reflects the journey of a rogue engineer joyriding and subsequently destroying an aircraft and himself a few years back, a dark tale starkly contrasted in the lightness, spaced out feeling of the song, you almost feel like you’re thousands of feet in the air listening to the yearning vocals of Howard over Dessner’s glacial, almost spatial production.

‘Collections’ is the most at peace Howard has ever sounded, and whilst that may be a strange observation to make, it has a meaningful impact on the listener. It starts symbolically from the artwork - in which Howard is simply slouched in a chair - continues with his elusive smile in the dark comedic music video for ‘What A Day’, and finally, in sonics, as his voice sounds light and almost free of vocal effects, floating over the electronic, experimental production rather than hiding underneath it all. The glitchy ‘Finders Keepers’ and folky blues of ‘Far Out’ are perfect, slow-burning examples of this. It’s a genuinely moving record, one that soaks itself into you, deserving of headphones for the full experience.

There are a few tracks that slightly miss the mark, ‘Rookery’ is a Joni Mitchell styled ditty, with a jaunty, prickly sound that, whilst pretty feels more suited to a small town cafe than the grand expansive soundscape that’s been carefully crafted here. ‘Unfurling’ meanwhile also has that slightly off-key, out-of-tune bite that feels at conflict with the dreamlike electronic world you’ve been placed into for the majority of the record.

I can’t believe it’s taken quite this long to hear the pairing of Howard and Dessner, a match seemingly made in heaven. Howard offers something quite starkly different for Dessner to work with, a songwriter more interested in exploring the wider world than himself, whilst Dessner’s electronic production and loops challenge and rein Howard's urge to continuously expand his songs endlessly (as he did on Noonday) in enough to present a compelling mixture of progressive folk and electronica that is weird, and complex enough for long time fans but captivating and welcoming for new listeners who want to discover an otherworldly sound. 

Collections From The Whiteout is out now.

More about: Ben Howard