More about: Ten Tonnes

As it turns out Dancing, Alone is a very apt title for this second album from rising indie star Ethan Barnett - aka Ten Tonnes. Firstly because of the stories that Barnett discloses across the record’s twelve tracks here: tales of heartbreak, isolated living, confronting his own mental health and overcoming his naturally introverted instincts. However probably more significantly, the album’s title can be seen as a perfect metaphor for its construction. 

Whilst Warner Bros released his self-titled debut album back in 2019 probably in the hope he would quickly catapult to superstardom like his brother George Ezra, it didn’t quite work out that way for Ethan. Whilst the first Ten Tonnes record received critical praise and helped build a cult fanbase amongst the indie hardcore, his success felt moderate compared to his peers such as Sam Fender who was also breaking out at the time. It isn’t clear whether this wasn’t enough for Warner Bros, Barnett himself or indeed both parties, but what is certain is that over the last four years Barnett has now been creating music as an independent instead. And when we say independent, we mean independent – writing, recording and even producing everything by himself without the backing of a label, management or any external help. Well and truly, Dancing Alone.

"Dancing, Alone is the sound of Barnett finding his feet as a recording musician again"

The result is an album which gets back-to-basics, as Barnett crafts an assured collection of no-fuss rock ‘n’ roll anthems, filled with hypnotic and varied riffs alongside big singalong choruses. Whilst at times you can argue that things are played a little too safe and a little more experimentation wouldn’t go amiss, it also feels like a necessary stepping-stone for Barnett at this stage in his young career. Dancing, Alone is the sound of Barnett finding his feet as a recording musician again, you feel in order to move forward and progress on later releases.

That said though, there’s still plenty to enjoy on this one and it starts off well straight out the gate. Lead single ‘Monday Morning’ is a heartache and power-pop fuelled opener, whilst ‘Heart To Break’ buzzes with waltzing riffs, instantly transporting you back to the early 00s indie boom when bands like The Strokes and The Libertines were just taking off. The title track is then one of the best moments of the whole record, stylishly swaggering with some excellent guitar work throughout. There’s also some vivid lyricism on display, with Barnett channelling Alex Turner on lines like “go down to Club 85 on a Saturday night, stand underneath the burning disco lights” and “my heart it bleeds onto the concrete.”

Barnett then manages to keep the momentum going with ‘When It Goes’, which features a mesmerising guitar groove and some light falsetto vocals. During the track he also reaffirms the fact he’s yet to hit full stride, singing “I’m walking past the pictures in the hall of fame, you step a little closer try to read a name, and suddenly I wake up in a cold, cold sweat, I thought I had it made but I ain’t even started yet.” The mostly acoustic ‘Lone Star’ then offers a welcome mid-album reprieve, with its early 60s haze and bluesy Americana riffs that eventually fade to black. 

"...tailor-made to be sung by the masses from the biggest festival stages, possibly giving the clearest glimpse yet into Barnett’s full potential."

Barnett is straight back to business afterwards though, with ‘Out of Here’ strutting along like Mick Jagger before recent single ‘Drowning In The Deep End’ serves up the record’s most anthemic moment. Offering a therapeutic and uplifting look back at a bleak period in time, it’s hard not to get pulled in by the song’s sentiment and catchy chorus. It also sounds tailor-made to be sung by the masses from the biggest festival stages, possibly giving the clearest glimpse yet into Barnett’s full potential.

However, after reaching such a high there is admittedly a natural dip over the next few tracks. ‘The Joke Got Old’ offers more guitar wizardry but lyrically it feels out of ideas, whilst similarly ‘Weight of the World’ and ‘Come On Home’ are both performed well enough, but seem to just retread ground already well covered - even occasionally veering into cliché. Thankfully though, he does manage to pull things back at the end, as the passion and emotion of ‘Give It Up’ simply bursts through your headphones before ‘Waiting For The Sun’ offers a fitting, heartfelt conclusion, ending on the poignant words “There’s a hole in my heart just waiting for the sun, but nobody knows when it’s going to come.”

Altogether, this does end up feeling very much like a new chapter for Barnett rather than the finished novel, which I guess for a second album coming after a period of soul-searching and managed recalibration seems only natural. Despite a couple of skippable tracks, there is still plenty to enjoy here as well - particularly if you’re just looking for soaring rock songs and some big indie singalongs to see you through the summer. It’s also hard not to be impressed by the DIY-spirit in which the record was crafted.

Ultimately, time will tell where Barnett goes from here but one thing is for sure - when it comes to touring this album around the UK later on this year, he will find plenty of new friends there with him on the dancefloor.

Grab your copy of the Gigwise print magazine here.

More about: Ten Tonnes