It seemed for a time that more mature performers were being pushed out of the industry. Unless you were Elton, Freddie, or otherwise someone well-established, if you were over 30 you had no hope of breaking out. Of course, breaking out is all relative, but simply being given the chance of exposure and a following was out of the question for a time. There’s been a shift in recent years, and unusually, it’s for the better.
You might not know it from the jangling, chiming indie guitars of the intro, but ‘Days of Rage’ opens an album that breaks into emotionally-wrought classic rock tunes, and while he cites ‘varied musical influences’ which include ‘the classics: Beatles, Stones, U2, and Springsteen, it’s the likes of Bryan Adams who come to mind on this solid, accessible rock tune with a positive message, as he sings of how ‘the days of rage are over now.’
Like many of the songs on ‘The Whisperers’, ‘7 Grams’ feels instantly familiar, and it’s later Mansun that spring to mind as a reference here.
The album’s title makes me think of ‘The Walking Dead’, but the music contained therein is altogether more uplifting.
It’s testament to Rubin’s songwriting, really, that the comparisons are numerous and wide-ranging. The songs are well-formed and tightly-structured, and lyrically, this is an impressive work, addressing contemporary issues without sounding cheesy or strained or going down the painful route of ‘older guy passes comment on stuff’, and while there are points at which nostalgia seeps in thick, he manages to avoid being mawkish or come on like the moaning old git down the pub moaning about kids today and how nothing’s as good as it was. Without rose-tinting anything, Rubin brings a positive energy to an album that’s confident and solid, and boasts some chunky guitars and stacks of instant hooks.
The vocal delivery on the evocative ‘The Border’ is strong, and there’s a keen sense of passion which laces its way through all of the ten tracks on offer here.
‘The Journey’ is perhaps the album’s weakest song: the piano-led ballad so often is, and the brief but huge guitar solo is more hindrance than help, but it probably suffers most from being among such strong material: even the rather cheesy salsa of ‘Coconut Point’ has a certain Chris Rea meets Wham charm that’s surprisingly forgivable. ‘Psychology’ is a breezy, almost jaunty tune that may have its roots in the 90s but has a timeless quality to it, and the driving energy of ‘Silent Violence’ is compelling.
Rubin clearly loves his definitive articles when it comes to song titles, but it works, because there’s something about ‘The Whisperers’ that feels like a definitive statement of his work and his worldview.
