This album is so good, it’s difficult to imagine ever wanting to listen to a band with less than 23 members ever again. The Wildhearts mainman embraces the sprawling octopus sounds of The Polyphonic Spree. Click here to read Ginger’s previous columns.

THE POLYPHONIC SPREE

The Fragile Army

2007 – TVT Records/Good Records

For lovers of huge, baroque, orchestral, upbeat, glorious pop, this week’s choice is as close to perfection as you’re ever likely to encounter.

A masterclass in songwriting and an ambitious stab at creating the actual sound of euphoria, Polyphonic Spree were formed in 2000 by Tripping Daisy mainman Tom DeLaughter as a side project. The project would gather such momentum that seven years later along came this, the Spree’s third album – and a line-up boasting 23 members!

Often derided for their excessive happiness and matching white robes, this album is simply impossible to argue with. Jam-packed with killer melodies, jaw-dropping harmony work and stunning musical arrangements, there isn’t a wasted minute on display here. French horns rub shoulders with grand pianos in a mash up of 70s musicals and classical composition all held aloft by the impressive vocal army at the heart of the Polyphonic Spree sound. It’s a gorgeous collection of ideas working in perfect symmetry, and is as addictive and infectious to some as it is annoying to others. Yes, it’s true, some miserable bastards just can’t stand to listen to anyone sounding this damned happy!

The Polyphonic Spree don’t like to do most things in a traditional fashion, hence their song titles being broken, over three albums, into sections from one to 32. The Fragile Army begins with Section 21 (Together We’re Heavy), adding further confusion to the conundrum as Section 20 is also entitled (Together We’re Heavy), from the previous album Together We’re Heavy. (Hope you’re following this, there’ll be a test later. – Ed.)

At this point it’s a good idea to forego making linear sense of this bizarre art attack and simply allow yourself to be taken into their oddball world with complete trust and acceptance. And a white robe.

After the 30 second opening build-up of Section 21 has reached its orchestral peak the wonderful Section 22 (Running Away) is on top of you like a pack of excited children undergoing a huge sugar rush. DeLaughter’s helium-coated vocals setting a scene of such uncontrolled glee that there is likely to be a huge grin on your face while listening to this perfect blast of hi-octane pop. Once this slice of sonic Prozac has reached its alarming crescendo it would take a critic of the most surly disposition to deny its giddy delights.

And with sunshine filling the room we soak in the floral fragrance that is Section 23 (Get Up And Go) before Section 24 (The Fragile Army) marches into the frame with a Salvation Army swing. A sumptuous one-two package that perfectly sets up the mood of the album, and as feel-good monster Section 25 (Younger Yesterday) cuts a piano lead rug the album begins to open up like a multi-layered rock’n'roll onion releasing chorus after tearful chorus, sang with such majesty and bombast that it’s difficult to imagine ever wanting to listen to a band with less than 23 members ever again.

As Section 25 loses itself in psychedelic Beatles-styled wonder, the true glory of the Spree’s awesome collection of musical instruments is brought into focus. Imagine the Arcade Fire jamming with the London Philharmonic Orchestra and you have some idea of the magnitude of the Spree’s instrumental forays.

Section 26 (We Crawl) is mid-paced melancholy that typically explodes into euphoric celebration mid song, with a million instruments joining the angelic choir for fuller than full effect. Uplifting and mightily impressive, The Polyphonic Spree are not a subtle band.

Section 27 (Mental Cabaret) enjoys an almost disco beat a-la Blur’s Girls And Boys, albeit with over a dozen singers. The close double tracking effect of DeLaughter singing in unison with, most noticeably, the pixie-like Jessica Jordan is truly a wonder to behold.

Section 28 (Guaranteed Nightlife) starts its trajectory as Vaudeville showtune, all parping piano and Annie styled vocals before morphine into David Bowie singing for Roxy Music, very 70s and very classic, before sinking back into cabaret territory. The song will flip-flop like this for its 3:55 running time delightfully disorientating the listener into grateful admission that this mighty and talented band were more than worth of investigation.

Section 29 (Light To Follow) opens in brooding style with a surging threat of imminent explosion that never comes, favouring, instead, operatic echoes and extreme dynamic discipline. Even when they drums spread out and the guitars crunch in staccato fury the effect is still of a lion basking in semi slumber while watching easy prey walk calmly by.

Section 30 (Watch Us Explode (Justify)) returns to the bluster and ceremony of classic Spree as Rufus Wainwright-sized bombast tests the range of your stereo, again, that segues into Section 31 (Overblow Your Nest) in a subtle switch that transforms into classic Bowie 70s pomp mixed with Flaming Lips emotional overload. Powerful stuff, for sure, and a faithful nod to a golden age where cinema and theatre once danced in musical union.

After such a draining, dazzling run of songs there is only a final devastating stroke to produce that easily comes with Section 32 (The Championship), the huge highlight in an album that uses highlights as minute marks. Beginning as a zesty pop song it becomes Bruce Springsteen singing Born To Run with the casts of Rent and Hair as produced by Jim Steinman. To my mind music just doesn’t get any more impressive than this.

And after chorus upon chorus beat away any reserve this awesome album is finally done.

There was a time when music like this enjoyed its very own romp through most genres of entertainment. When Jesus Christ Superstar shared equal billing with disaster movies and man-eating sharks, but where happiness wasn’t relegated to simply comedies.

The Polyphonic Spree return the listener to a simple time where musical movies finally became cultural curios to be enjoyed by the young and the vibrant. Theirs is a sound of freakish hippies dancing in earthy Kodacolor. Theirs is a religion that celebrates joy over cash and love over war.

Can you dig it?