What. the. fuck. happened here? I pulled up 9B and did a quick search for what we wrote about the new Frank Turner album before I supplied a local print outlet with a show blurb, and much to my surprise, we’d written nothing. I blame myself. The rest of the writers are
chomping champing at the bit to write about high profile releases and here’s one I called for myself and then completely dropped the ball on.
I apologize and at this point, there’s almost no point in writing about it. I mean, a single voice in a stadium contributes to the overall roar but that asshole that screams while everyone else is quiet makes zero effect, and today ninebullets is a late asshole in a stadium of people who’ve already written about England Keep My Bones. Fuck it though, at least we’re not the “Freebird” asshole or Rick Scott supporters….
My first exposure to any of Frank’s music came via his opening act on the Social Distortion (bleh), Lucero (yay) show that rolled through St. Petersburg about a year ago, and it went a little something like this:
He took the stage that night and opened with a song I disliked so much that by the end of it I had moved from the front of the venue to the very back. I was lost, and it was gonna take something pretty epic to win me back. Frank and his band took that challenge and pretty much maintained awesome for the remainder of their set. By the end of the third song I was back in the front, and somewhere in the middle of the set I was tweeting about how Frank Turner is the perfect mix of Tim Barry and The Gaslight Anthem.
England Keep My Bones suffers no such opening stumble. Instead, it opens with this perfect mixture of the classic Tim Barry/Chuck Ragan punk folk meets Irish bar anthem opener that is the 1:30-ish song “Eulogy”, which immediately mixes into the Tim-meets-Gaslight “Peggy Sang The Blues”, and if you aren’t already trying to figure out where England Keep My Bones fits into your Top 5 by the time the (as I’ve declared) Americana National Anthem “I Still Believe” starts, then you’re just not as in tuned to the main vein of awesome as I am.
So there. Frank Turner has a new album out. It’s been out for forever at this point. We’re painfully late, but it’s still painfully awesome. I mean, we’re talking a chance bar meeting with Natalie Portman that leads to drunken sex awesome. We’re talking Essential Listening awesome.
Get the point? And, if you’re the one person who reads 9B who doesn’t have the album already…remedy that shit immediately.