A tapestry of stories: old, new, & everything in between
Bastille presents “&” (Ampersand) | Candlelight Sessions at Manchester Cathedral | October 16th, 2024
Reviewed by Alexandria Mowrey
A large group of Bastille fans and I queued up in the rain outside of Manchester Cathedral. The evening marked the final stop on Bastille front man, Dan Smith’s, candlelight tour, debuting and promoting the upcoming album, Ampersand. The album is technically a solo project for Smith but relies heavily on the collaboration of other talented musicians. He is accompanied by Charlie Barnes, Moira Mack, AK Patterson, and Merrick Winter.
Simply put the album is a collection of stories about people, whether they be mythical, biblical, historical, or contemporary. On stage, Smith cites the genesis of the project being his self-proclaimed identity as an “interested idiot.” This enthusiasm towards the subject matter is apparent in both his words and the way he carries himself on stage. Smith beamed the whole evening, eager to share everything from anecdotes in the studio to facts about each song’s lore. It was abundantly obvious that this album and this particular vehicle of performance was a passion project in the purest form.
To listeners only familiar with hits like ‘Pompeii’ and ‘Happier,’ the project may seem like an ambitious deviation from their previous successes. However, these undercurrents of popular culture, existentialism, and historical revisionism have run through Bastille’s work since the beginning. Titles on their 2013 album, All This Bad Blood, include ‘Daniel in the Den,’ ‘Icarus,’ ‘Laura Palmer,’ and lest we forget, ‘Pompeii.’ If anything, Ampersand is Smith’s opportunity to finally embrace the full scale of his commitment to the craft of storytelling. It allows him to wear the badge proudly, and unabashedly.
On Ampersand, Smith deals in the business of asking questions. The first things he said on stage were “Can you see us?” and “Are we even real?” He’s joking, of course, but their existential nature becomes the accidental introduction to one of the larger themes of the evening. As time went on, I noticed almost every song was centered around such questions.
The opening number, Intros & Narratives,’ establishes Smith as our narrator for the evening. “Talk a walk with me” he sings, and off we go. The soft guitar picking and catchy harmonizing draw us in. Smith, Mack, and Patterson’s voices meld together deliciously.
As a lyricist, Smith jumps between being an omniscient narrator and assuming the role of his protagonists. ‘Emily & Her Penthouse in the Sky’ reflects upon the life and legacy of Emily Dickinson, bringing her reputation as a recluse into question. Smith not only disproves that wildly accepted perception of her but also asks the question: Who cares if she was a recluse? Who are we to judge? The bridge includes repeated measures of the lyrics “Oh she was never lost.” The harmonies have a choral-like effect, reinforcing the statement, and adding a level of gravitas.
One of the most dynamic numbers is ‘Drawbridge & The Baroness,’ one that Smith reveals as a favorite. With its twinkling keys, whimsical melody, and Smith’s lilting falsetto, it is pure magic. As the song progresses, a dissonance between the shift into minor on keys and the cheekiness of the song’s consistent profanity builds immense tension. By the time we reach the bridge, we are jolted out of our reverie. “If I’m dreaming, can I wake up? / If I’m dreaming, can I wake up now?” Smith’s pleading vocals paired with a ramp-up on guitar and the insertion of staticky, angsty, synth make for a climax that leaves us almost gasping for air. And yet, like many songs on the album, the ending provides no clarity or closure. We are only left with a haunting acoustic reprisal of the chorus. Nothing is answered, and the song is stronger for it.
The show closed with ‘Blue Sky & The Painter,’ a musing on the work of artist Edvard Munch. The song opens mysterious and Western-esque. It then transforms into a righteous, electric mantra for optimism. “Is that a blue sky? It’s about damn time.” It is fitting that this is the loudest Smith ever gets, packing intense emotion into each word. He sounds passionate, emboldened, and desperate for the elusive “blue sky.” Always one for a contemplative bridge, “Would I be who I am without the sadness in me?”, calls us back inward. We are presented with a display of radical acceptance towards all aspects of life. We are left with a sense that it is achievable.
Ampersand is a mosaic of histories, narratives, and the questions that we ask ourselves in order that we might survive. Whether any questions were answered that night in Manchester Cathedral is irrelevant. Smith never claims to have it figured out – and, maybe, the magic of the album exists in that admission. What we received instead was a sense of connection, a link between self and other, and a reminder that things stand stronger together than alone. Which, of course, is exactly what an ampersand does. It brings things together.
“&” (Ampersand) by Bastille is out October 25th.
Reviewed by Alexandria Mowrey