Funny, thoughtful and tuneful album about a post-people planet.
Who would have thought that the end of the world could be this joyful, quirky and funny? The Burning Hell claim to have been writing party anthems about the apocalypse since before it arrived at the party, which has encompassed ten albums, including this one, to date. The record isn’t actually about how the world or humanity ends, rather it focuses on the detritus that is left once people no longer exist and the inevitable conclusion that in the long term humankind is doomed. The core of the band comprises Mathias Kom and Ariel Sharratt, who are aided and abetted by various collaborators including Maria Peddle (fiddle and vocals), Steven Lambke (lead guitar), Carlie Howell (double bass), Amy Nicoll (oboe) and José Contreras (organ). Although Kom may have had his tongue firmly in his cheek when writing the lyrics there are several serious points being made. The overarching one maybe that there’s so much beauty in the world, but people, (including you and me), seem hell bent on covertness and destruction.
‘Celebrities in Cemeteries‘ is a jaunty tune which sounds like something Belle and Sebastian could have written. It commences with a visit to Pierre La Chaise graveyard in Paris to pay homage to Jim Morrison and Oscar Wilde. It muses on fame and death, and how we’re still fascinated by long dead heroes, such as Gram Parsons, who’s paid tribute to by ‘butchering the harmonies in ‘Hickory Wind’‘. The song’s protagonist dreams of constructing a preposterous tombstone so they too can become posthumously famous.
‘Brazil Nuts and Blue Curaçao‘ features a samba beat with the sounds of a steel band being replicated. It’s a song which references Jimmy Buffet’s Magaraitaville chain of resorts. It’s the antithesis of Wham’s ‘Club Tropicana‘, in that it’s a vision of a dilapidated, abandoned, all-inclusive paradise where all you can eat is ‘Brazil nuts and blue curaçao‘ and ‘the water’s never hot and the fridges are defective‘.
The catchy ‘Luna FM‘ is about a deracinated, lonely DJ on the moon spinning various platters by Deep Purple and the B52s, never knowing if he’s got any listeners, and always finishing his programme with Europe’s ‘The Final Countdown‘. ‘My Home Planet‘ is another space-related ditty in which two refugees from a messed-up Earth seek admission to another world, whilst apologising for ‘leaving plastic in the water and plastic in the clouds‘.
The guitar at the beginning of ‘Summer Olympics‘ makes it sound like Kom is going to burst into Dire Straits’ ‘Sultans of Swing‘ but no, he’s soon ruminating on a time when he was dragged away from the ‘horror show‘ of a busker playing Ed Sheeran by his girlfriend to spend a blissful afternoon watching the summer Olympics. However, having visited a ‘museum of your own past, future and present‘ he realises that, although they’ll stay together forever, it’ll never get better than that moment watching the ‘summer Olympics on TV‘.
‘Duck vs. Decorated Shed‘ is a country hoedown with Maria Peddle’s fiddle to the fore. Kom uses an architectural analogy in which buildings classified as “ducks” are ones where their form is symbolic and representative of their function, whereas “decorated sheds” are functional and require decoration or signage to denote their purpose. Kom states that he’d rather be a duck whilst acknowledging that the analogy is flawed.
The album finishes with the beautiful acoustic ‘Ghost Palace‘ which reflects on how we’re remembered after we’re gone, if we’re remembered at all. In this case the last thing to remember the person in the song is a small bird at an abandoned service station. ‘Goodbye cruel world‘ is rather appropriately the last thing which Kom sings. This is an eclectic, thoughtful and funny record which, although concentrating on humankind’s flaws, also offers moments of optimism which can often be found in the minutiae of life.
