The magic of Ants From Up There (2022) lies in its quiet moments, which is weird, considering that so much of the album is chock-full of stuff—acoustic guitar, electric guitar, violins, mandolin, cello, saxophone, flute, marimba, glockenspiel, bass, and banjo. The songs rejoice in their excess, making the listening experience an onslaught of (occasionally grating) stimulation.
The voice of frontman Isaac Wood saves the album from drowning in its density. His crackle-fire baritone is so raw, so unpretentious, so blisteringly vulnerable that it makes every element of the album’s baroque instrumentation feel absolutely crucial. After all, nothing comes off as histrionic when it’s coming from a man laying out his eviscerated heart right in front of you.
Now three years later, Isaac Wood is gone. He left Black Country, New Road, days before the release of Ants From Up There, citing the emotional toll of laying out his eviscerated heart right in front of you. What remains is the band’s other six-sevenths, still going by the BC,NR moniker. Their new album, Forever Howlong (2025), came out last week.
All of the band’s best tendencies—powerful songwriting, catchy licks, and the ability to grow those licks into stadium-stopping crescendos—are in full form on this record. But prolificness has never been an issue for the art-punkers, whose albums to date have all included at least two eight-plus-minute tracks. Their issue, if any, has been their tendency towards being too much: too over-the-top, too ambitious, too noisy.
On previous records, Isaac’s voice served as the perfect counterbalance to the band’s maximalist impulses. But in his absence, there is no such balance. And thus, the new album sags under the weight of its many layers.
There are a number of undeniable highlights on this record (“Happy Birthday” and “Socks” stick out as obvious examples). But the project’s sheer volume—I’m speaking both in terms of decibels and the near hour-long run-time here—makes its spark fade rather quickly. Hopefully, the band’s three new singers (whose vocal dynamism is on full display) adopt some of the roughness of Wood’s singing, and can maintain his balming effect on the band’s sound. But until then, their polished crooning is just icing on the band’s cake and fails to pack the same gritty punch of Ants From Up There.
