Last year, I started writing for a music site called Tuned Up. While combing through submissions for review, every once in a while I’ll strike pure gold.
One of the heftier nuggets recently was English Basement, a piece of psych-rock tinged post-punk from Binding Spell. While this year has seen absolutely no shortage of albums written in and about quarantine (my own band is going to have our own coming out one of these days), bandleader Roger Poulin brings a uniquely personal perspective set to a soundtrack of wobbly basslines, dancy rhythms, and stabby guitars.
While the entire world entered some level of quarantine in 2020, Poulin’s isolation had a head start. In the end of 2019, he and his wife separated, and he moved into an English basement-style apartment in Washington DC. He had already begun working on new songs when the entire world shut down. When he finally left his apartment, it was to join protests against racism, which turned to political unrest as the year drew on.
And on English Basement, Binding Spell gives an almost voyeuristic look at the world from Poulin’s apartment windows, shifting from monotonous to chaotic with the world outside.
Post punk has always been a fitting medium for ennui, depression, and paranoia, but where most modern post punk acts clearly pattern their chops after Joy Division and New Order (which is not always a bad thing), Binding Spell takes a much broader approach. There are shades of Talking Heads, Kraftwerk, Bowie in Berlin, and Wire’s more experimental albums accenting the icy, monochromatic moods and palette of post punk.
Urgent tracks like “Intermission” and “Sounds Like This” borrow Motorik beats from Krautrock bands like Faust, Can, and Neu!. “Living Just Dreaming” has a healthy dose of 60s psychedelia. The sardonic “Been Better” features guest vocalist Sarah Phillips over a stabby garage rock track. The title track is subdued, but still plods with a post punk beat, reaching an almost anthemic wordless chorus. “Cigarettes and Perfume” is practically a country song, in the tradition of Talking Heads’ Little Creatures. There are some clear stylistic nods, but their talent for making these conventions their own feels similar to noted genre-benders and pop culture regurgitators LCD Soundsystem. The mixing job of Ben Etter, noted for his work with similar genre alchemists Deerhunter helps bring Poulin’s vision into focus with stark clarity.
The musical shifts are largely a reflection of Poulin’s lyrics, which reflect on his own isolation, the apocalyptic dread of 2020, and even the anxiety of believing we’d be productive during quarantine (in “Canvas and Paint” he sings, “I’ve got piles of clothes to fold / houseplants crumbling into mold / half wrote novels and works of gold / ripped jeans and buttons to fold.” Who among us, amiright?). But through it all, there is a glimmer of hope. In closer “Sunlight Get You Down” he fights against the dread that we can face at the prospect of living another day, interrupting verses filled with conflict and separation with the refrain “don’t let the sunrise get you down.”
And despite the emotional, lyrical, and musical fluency that fills this disc, it seems that English Basement exists in a vacuum. When I wrote my review for Tuned Up, the only information I could find about the band was their own Bandcamp page and the press release for this album. I stumbled upon the vinyl when I revisited the album and went back to their page, and was surprised that it was already pressed to zero fanfare. And friends, that is a damn shame. It might not be the most important quarantine album to come out, but it might be the most relatable. And the fact the Binding Spell can so perfectly capture the dread, isolation, and panic of the last year while still writing a catchy, danceable record is all the proof anyone should need that this record is worth their time.