Deep Inside The Sound Of Sadness

Strange to think, but it’s exactly ten years since the Dublin quartet released their debut A Map Of The Universe By Blink on Parlophone, and launched a career that, subsequently, didn’t appear to have a map. Readers too young to remember the album should know that it was a charming pop affair, with the notable exception of ‘Cello’ – still their darkest three minutes ever, and always a hint that there was more to Blink than initially met the ear.
Their sound darkened further on the road, and when Blink made the decision to stay on tour rather than rush straight back to studio, Parlophone dropped them.
Swiftly re-signed to Paradigm in the States, they released the acclaimed The End Is High in 1998. Billboard made it their album of the month, the band hit the road with Moby and Mercury Rev, and it looked like things were really about to happen. They even made some obscure American band who were also called Blink add a ‘182’ to their name. Then Paradigm collapsed and it all fell apart again. Same old rock & roll story.
And so to long overdue album three, Deep In The Sound Of Sadness, released on their own Serene label. Recorded over the last four years with Ministry’s Howie Beno in the production seat, this is a record born out of deep frustration, rage, pain and, of course, sadness. All told, it makes for compelling listening.
It opens with a Beno-bang. ‘The Tiny Magic Indian’ is a full-frontal aural assault with Robbie Sexton, Brian McGloughlin and Barry Campbell providing a wall of noise for frontman Dermot Lambert to thrash his guitar against. ‘Angel Of Light’ is a little calmer, but only just. First single ‘To Go’ is a more traditional Blink song – sweet, gentle, melodic and memorable.
Written in response to his mother’s death, ‘We All Know What Happens Next’ is probably one of the best things Lambert has ever written (“Tell everyone you love, you love them/’Cos you’re running out of time/And we all know what happens next”). ‘Snow White Has Let You Down Again’ follows and they’re back to angry again. The next five tracks are equally good – ’Don’t Panic’ is a classic – but the first twenty minutes alone are worth the price of admission.
This isn’t a particularly inventive record but with songs as honest, true and heartfelt as these, you don’t need to resort to musical trickery. Blink aren’t trying to redefine genres here, they’re just expressing themselves as best they can. The result is an Irish classic – up there with Heartworm and I Am The Greatest.