Frank Turner – Poetry of the Deed

It is an interesting truism to note that the level of Frank Turner's success has increased in an inverse relationship with the length of his hair. Expect, then, when he finally hits the big time for him to turn up looking like Michael Stipe. But more centrally to the ascension of our star Turner is his third longplayer offering, 'Poetry of the Deed'. It is very difficult to write a review about the borderline crossover appeal of Turner without reference to the phrase 'selling out'. Fear not, for this critique is not about to accuse Turner of such. Indeed, the wit of the man has beaten me to it; 'We can never sell out because we never bought in', yells a typically animated Turner on upbeat opener 'Live Fast Die Old'.

However, shying away from such actions does not take away from the fact that this is perhaps the weakest Frank Turner album to date. That opening song sets a promising pace for the rest of the album to follow; prominent piano and organ over a clean production sheen (I'd have loved to hear the first album produced like this), a song pitched in the 'Vital Signs'/'Reasons...' bracket. Therein lies the true problem of the album however – most of the songs here have in essence been done before, and done better. Many of them have direct counterparts from the first two albums, almost as though they have provided a blueprint for all future works. For 'Sons of Liberty', for instance, read 'Love Ire & Song' or '...Anarchists', except not nearly as good. There's the songs about drinking, songs about girls, songs about...songs. The problem is that none of them seem to grab this listener in quite the same way that their non-identical twins once did. Remember when you first heard 'The Real Damage' or 'Long Live The Queen'? Nothing on here quite has the same impact, be it through a killer hook or lyric.

Still, any new material is a welcome addition to the Turner library. 'Richard Devine' has a quirky, staccato swagger about it, vaguely reminiscent of his backing band Dive Dive's 'Take It, It's Yours' and bizarrely, (and ever so slightly) 'Laura' by the Scissor Sisters (listen to that piano/guitar line in the opening verse). Not a sentence I'd ever thought I'd write. Elsewhere, lead single 'The Road' is another standout – the kind of folk-pop singalong we've grown used to over the years, with an almost trademark driving middle eight in particular lifting the song to a triumphant final chorus. 'Live Fast...' also makes use of this well, especially the lovely sliding effect signalling the run in to a great last minute or so.

Leaving these aside, solo acoustic strum 'Dan's Song' is probably the weakest such effort I've heard from Frank's repertoire, musically and lyrically – an attempt at a 'Real Damage' without the punch. And title track 'Poetry of the Deed' contains the line, “Life is to short to be lived without poetry/If you've got soul darling come on and show it me” - one of those Turner lyrical moments; a genius rhyme or just plain cringeworthy? I still can't decide after numerous listens. However the closing trio of songs somewhat rescues a meandering middle portion of the album; each building, once again, to their own dramatic climaxes; the slow-burning 'Sunday Nights' perhaps the most affecting of these.

Taken outside the context of the first two albums, there is no doubt that this is a highly listenable record; upbeat in many places, generally just good fun. It pains me a little to judge it on the first few listens; some songs may grow over time, or be more impressive in a live scenario. Furthermore, this is no 'backlash' as may have been expected against his growing popularity. But there is no getting away from those earlier efforts and comparisons thereto. This is a Frank Turner minus the angst, the emotion, the call-to-arms anthemics of first two albums works. In other words, everything that made his earlier works special, personal, life-affirming even. Shorn of these traits, Poetry of the Deed is merely a decent collection of songs.

7/10


Well at least I got through this whole review without one use of 'frankly', 'to be frank...' or similar.