At this point, the career of English 7-piece experimental rock band, Black Country, New Road, seems like it is homologating the brief and prolific outputs of many British Invasion bands of the sixties. Formed in 2018 in London, BC,NR released a few singles before their groundbreaking debut, For The First Time, last year. A tremendous work of ambitious mixes of post-punk, post-rock and alternative rock that became one of the most acclaimed debuts of 2021, me included. But the reason I’m making this comparison is because just days before the release of Ants From Up There, almost exactly a year after their first record, singer Isaac Wood announced he’s leaving the band for personal reasons. This unpredictable turn of events really puts the band’s second album into a whole new perspective and it’s worth mentioning that the future of the band (while so far, defined) looks like it could take any artistic direction.

Preceded by amazing singles that showcased that the band was ready to keep up with what For The First Time promised, Ants From Up There is more melodic and plays to the band’s strong quiet-loud dynamics, however it is equally ambitious and confronting as its predecessor as the band never settles for a song structure or idea. Almost every song here shimmers in the background at first, with Isaac Wood’s voice narrating dystopian stories or contemporaneous anxiety-inducing realities, blooming into different blasting and chaotic instrumental moments, most of them harnessing the power of the eclectic intrumentation the 7-piece band is capable of.

After an engaging instrumental intro, the album presents the first single ‘Chaos Space Marine’, a narration of Wood’s where he leaves England, his home country, to become the entitled character. It is easily the most uplifting track on the record and also the most rhythmically consistent, with a forceful chorus embracing the listener while Wood exclaims: “So I’m leaving this body!/And I’m never coming home again, yeah!”. This type of explosion with energetic strings and Charlie Wayne’s unabatable drums gives many songs in Ants From Up There a burgeoing purpose, one that keeps the album ablaze for its 56 minutes of duration.

‘Concorde’ and ‘Bread Song’ are prime examples of the art-rock approach this album takes differing to For The First Time‘s urgent post-punk tendencies. The first with its steady rhythm and growing nature is an ode to change where Wood uses the entitled plane to represent the movement while referencing the feeling he would express to the subject of the song. ‘Bread Song’ conjures itself differently. While reaching a restrained break at the middle, the build-up is more tense with Wood frequently teasing a release only to reach it just before the drums and sax bring the song to its deserved climax. The fingerpicked guitars here court a folky atmosphere and its mix with long-winding wind instruments’ notes boiling-up the tension make this song one of the most unique in the whole record.

Throughout Ants From Up There, Wood’s voice sounds like a gentle lament, he’s words merging with the music seamlessly and I can’t help but imaging him in the middle of a dark stage with a spotlight over him, describing quotidian views rendered through a novel-writer like imagery. This is true especially for a song like ‘Bread Song’, but immediately after the band make their own take in emo-like rhythms and gentle guitars. ‘Good Will Hunting’ is indie rock composed by a band that doesn’t restrict the formula, so it bursts passion like every other track here, but in its own way. It is followed by ‘Haldern’, the most ethereal track in Ants From Up There. It never settles to a structure an instrumentation is more volatile, all while gentle guitars and piano wrap Wood’s voice as he sweetly sings his most restrained verses in the record. By its coda, drums and violin accompany the implosion and finishes in stacatto piano and violin notes, never releasing its tension. Despite its unattachment it nevertheless manages to be almost as engaging as the preceding tracks.

Up to this point, the album, in all its dramatic penchant, has never receded and somehow it manages to pack the most epic and longest tracks in the end. After an instrumental interlude, comes ‘The Place Where He Inserted the Blade’, one of the most visceral numbers, which, in the opinion of this writer, it can easily become the centerpiece of a colorful and heart-breaking musical. It uses the tried-and-true dynamic of the rest of Ants From Up There with a slow and mild intro, embellished by violins and flute. Its build-up reaches another level early on, but its stays like that until the climax comes with Wood pleading: “Good morning, show me the place where he inserted the blade!” referring to the past relationship of his significant other or to ask how he could actually do things right without messing up. In the end the saxophone of Lewis Evans flies in a full-blown melody while the rest of the band joins Wood in a beautiful vocal harmony.

After that cathartic moment comes ‘Snow Globes’, the major highlight in the album and one of the most important rock tracks of the year (yes, in February). The track is the prime example of how Ants From Up There is concieved, starting with a steady chord progression, gently joined by keyboardist May Kershaw’s voice, saxophone and then Georgia Ellery’s violin. It takes a while for Isaac Wood to start singing, but before that the drums start creating fills in the background which will eventually become the protagonist of the song. At the 3 minute mark Wood starts singing, referencing historical figures to what could probably represent his failing relationship. Guitars, violins, and Wood’s voice start elevating gently, but Wayne’s drumming becomes thundering and relentless, pummeling his drumset as a free-jazz solo on its own right. At some point Wood’s voice elevates to shouting: “God of weather, Henry knows, snow globes don’t shake on their own!” he sings, eventually letting the song finish as it started, leaving an unmistakable trace behind.

The lengthiest track of the album and closer, ‘Basketball Shoes’ is a magnific and triumphant conclusion, combining many of the themes presented in the whole record. Its duration allows the band to showcase their distinctive rapport, a group of talented instrumentalists that work together to compose a revitalizing and especial approach to rock music. As I said at the beginning of this review, in the course of a single year, Black Country, New Road have already created their own niche in music by releasing first a collection of tracks that impulsed itself from the post-punk revival, harnessing the momentum of peers like black midi (very close peers in that) and Squid. Then Ants From Up There continues the thesis that BC,NR are in a class of their own. The record extends everything For The First Time presented, instrumentally and narratively. It is post-rock and art-rock, it is grandiose chamber pop, sacrificing immediacy for intense resolution.

Sadly Ants From Up There is only the second and it will be the last record with this line-up. Isaac Wood’s role is part of what has made Black Country, New Road so engaging and exciting in this short period of time. But whatever happens, we will always have this record to fuel us up, recharing us with its groundbreaking spark. An album of intentional wide-reaching nature that truly surprises in how it is never a victim of its own ambition. Track by track it keeps its relentless wheel turning and Black Country, New Road are willing to demonstrate that they will use any means at their disposal to reach the level of their epic ideas, which have already became an integral part of the development of rock in the last several years. We can and should be excited for their future.