The Antlers – Burst Apart (the best of 2011…)

I’ve written about this album a lot this year. I’ve been able to group a lot of my music into one semi-cohesive ball of gel in my head and during much of late November and most of December I focused on really honing in on a tight 2011 list of favorites. Burst Apart was probably one of the safest hitters in that I knew it was easily a top 5 album for me but without a doubt, my #1 of the year. I am still searching for music to find and am still finding various 2011 albums that will probably be added to my list later on but until then, I was able to make a solid list and this is my favorite. I might list that whole thing later, I might write more about it. But before I exasperate all I have left to say about Burst Apart, some more songs here to check out.

I love the very beginning of it, with “I Don’t Want Love,” it brilliantly leads into the overflowing charm of “French Exit.” There’s just something so defiant about it and yet so reassuring and resounding with it: I don’t want love. The guitars are rough around the edges, a pacing melody is heard throughout and while the vocals highlight on a moving-on theme, there is no doubt that this is all about personal growth. The music swells to where the drums are forcefully on full display and Peter Silberman’s voice is allowed to sing in falsetto above everything else. It’s like a blend of U2 when they made Achtung Baby with a blend of Radiohead back when The Bends was currently being made. It’s a lovely entryway onto the album – it neatly introduces a lot of the themes, moods and expressions felt all through Burst Apart – and it justly places the focus off the desolation of Hospice and onto the aching beauty of this new album.


While the album maintained itself as my personal favorite, it was always due to its flawless flow and sequencing. Every song is a new slice of life, a new rendering of magnificent music to take hold of. On “Every Night My Teeth Are Falling Out” the macabre appears in lush and ornate The National-like style with chugging guitars and swirling keyboards that are juxtaposed between soft, tempered verses and banging, rousing choruses that feature fantastic percussion. The song melts away the scope for a rigid look into pop and rock perfection and how the two still seemingly work hand-in-hand. And still, it’s just part of one massively great album. Ha, as already probably noted too much before. – Bryan

The Antlers - Burst Apart

I know that by now, this album has to be a pretty safe bet to land on a lot of year-end lists and I know that it’s probably really HUGE, too, but I’ve been listening to The Antlers’ Burst Apart non-stop for the past week or so. I was a fan of their previous album, Hospice, a lot and I was really mad at myself for waiting so long to finally dip into this new one because it’s truly amazing. And although it might not be the desperately sad album Hospice was, it’s soaring sounds are every bit as good. I mean, Hospice was about a sordid, broken relationship with no hope and here they open with “I Don’t Want Love” and a declaration for the openness that is life without complication. It depends on how you look at it but after the sadness that love can bring, there’s strong resonance in saying, “I’ll pass on it for now” so, in other words this is definitely different territory for The Antlers.

Still, I love the way that aforementioned song bleeds into “French Exit.” With its chiming guitar, it leads way into the second song’s stuttering new guitar melody and towering keyboards. The entire song is decorated with layers of sound before lead singer/songwriter Peter Silberman sings about the bitterness around his unforgiving lover. I love how he describes the unbearable feeling of it all, “If I don’t take you somewhere else, I’m gonna pull my teeth right out.” The stunning music is gradually built into a massive wall of noise; you can definitely hear The National’s influence with a style that is still very personal. In the end, it’s best not to get any kind of pity really, “I’m not a puppy you take home, don’t bother trying to fix my heart.”


There are so many good songs on this album and I’ll try not to overhype it too much but I love “Hounds” and its almost, advising words. “Slow down” is what he’s calling out and it’s somehow about how he’s only trying to protect her, trying to just “belong to you.” The music is pensive and reflective with the soothing tones of a melodic guitar and while the words still leave a lot to wonder, the title implies a racing dog just trying to get to the breast of his lover. Even in the night while others are trying to loosen her up with drinks and trying to look at her, he declares: “While I look everywhere for you.” It’s a beautiful sentiment, one that makes perfect sense in the moment and in the end, a gorgeous way to deliver it all; this album’s filled with special songs all over. – Bryan