While it’s since evolved into a blues-hymnal outfit, Soulsavers began as a different type of musical creature altogether. Initially the project was more of an electronic affair, with Rich Machin partnering with studio engineer Ian Glover for their 2003 debut Tough Guys Don’t Dance. Shifting to an electo-flavored bruised-blues mood four years later for their followup, It’s Not How Far You Fall, It’s The Way You Land, the duo enlisted Mark Lanegan (Gutter Twins, QOTSA) as the primary voice of the project, who lent his signature whiskey-ravaged gravel-pit of a voice to eight tracks on the album. It was a smart move on Machin & Glover’s part; the result was a fantastic endeavor that drew fawning praise from press and fans alike.
Lanegan once again returns to the fold for Broken, the band’s third album – and this time he’s bringing some friends. While he takes part in a full ten tracks on the album, he receives extra vocal colors by way of contributions provided by Spiritualized’s Jason Pierce (Pharaoh’s Chariot), Faith No More/Tomahawk/Fantomas frontman Mike Patton (Unbalanced Pieces) and Gibby Haynes of the Butthole Surfers (Death Bells). Additional guests on the album are Richard Hawley (backing vocals on Shadows Fall), Australian newcomer Red Ghost (Rosa Agostino) and studio bassist Martyn LeNoble (Porno for Pyros, Jane’s Addiction).
Broken was recorded in the span of a year, with Machin and Lanegan shuffling between Los Angeles and Rich’s home in the north of England to capture the desired sound. The setting was a bit more secure, as It’s Not How Far You Fall… was funded primarily on Rich’s credit cards, without a record deal or any other financial support in place, but that’s not the only difference.
“Touring has definitely brought the guitars to the front of Broken, and it’s got a more soulful twist, too,” says Machin of Soulsavers’ evolution. “Though it clearly has some very dark overtones, I don’t think it’s quite as dark as the last album… I love all kinds of music, which allows me to open all these doors. There’s nothing better than bringing in great people who inspire, to keep you on top of your game, and to keep things fresh and never boring. That’s the nature of what we’ve set up here.”
Two cinematic instrumentals serve as deliberate testaments to Machin’s film-score aspirations: pensive piano-waltz opener The Seventh Proof and the slow-building, ever-longing Wise Blood. While Soulsavers songs have already been featured on TV shows including Grey’s Anatomy, CSI New York and HBO’s In Treatment, Machin hopes to take his music to the big screen – and soon. He enlisted Italian arranger Daniele Luppi to advise on Broken in the hopes of giving the album a cinematic flare. “He brought alive our ideas, which has pushed me harder to try and work a lot more in that film world,” says Machin.
Lanegan’s rough-leather coyote baritone gives the project an air of cool across the vast desert-scape of Broken. His presence diffuses any electro-schtick that would otherwise dilute tracks like "Death Bells," and add a depth of near-doom melancholy to nearly everything he touches.
The low-brim, dangling-cigarette meander of "Unbalanced Pieces" would clash starkly with the funereal hymn of "You’ll Miss Me When I Burn" if it weren’t for Lanegan’s consistent croon, seeing us through thick and thin or, in this case, life and death. “When you have no one, no one can hurt you,” Mark gently offers, both as a silver lining and a somber realization.
Lanegan’s low-end narrative never digs too deep into the self-pity; he depicts characters accepting their fate, tending the dwindling fire and refusing to turn and run – even in the face of death. Even his quiet whispers of anguish and defeat arrive not as hands-to-the-sky pity parties, but as soft reflections of inevitability. "Can’t Catch The Train" is a song my Grandfather would’ve loved – gliding strings and soft piano chords under funeral-march vocals that aren’t hard to imagine accompanying the final moments of life.
On Broken, the guitars are more up front, and the soul is on high, but none of this distracts from the overall sense that life is ending. That doesn’t make it dark – these sepulchral proceedings aren’t sad songs, necessarily, so much as reflections of hard-worn memories at the end of a hellishly long journey. "Shadows Fall" is a delicate hymnal with direction that breaks down to an acoustic strum and doubled vocals dissonantly interweaving and echoing off one another, while "All The Way Down" features a spiritual, high-soul moment of rare hymnal optimism from Lanegan.
The glorious eight-minute version of "Some Misunderstanding," written by original Byrd and Gene Clark for his 1974 album No Other, stands out as a distraction from the record, but it’s so good that forgiveness is in immediate order.
Broken also introduces a new voice, Red Ghost, through an act of sheer determination on her own part. “This young Australian girl from Sydney kept on sending me demos,” Rich recalls, “and she was better than most everything else we’d heard. We traded ideas, and it really gelled.” She adds a gorgeously silken, soothing vocal to the heaven’s-in-sight "Praying Ground" before confidently soul-volleying with Lanegan on "Rolling Sky" and closing the album with her third contribution, the breathy, languid "By My Side".
Despite it’s pallor at first glance, there’s no self-loathing sense of despair here, but rather a somber reflection of years passed, days lost and moments seized. It’s another beautiful notch in Lanegan’s belt, which stretches across more projects and bands than anyone can keep track of. Arriving with an inevitably penetrating air of reflection, Broken is a reminder that, even in our dying days, the fire still needs tending.
