Since the release of his last album, Frank Turner has gone from a skinny half-arsed English country singer to a skinny half-arsed English country singer who has sold out Wembley and performed at the Olympic Opening Ceremony. You wouldn't be able to tell this instantly from Tape Deck Heart. His songs are still charmingly down to earth; playing in front of a packed Olympic Stadium hasn't elevated his ego even remotely, and in fact this album largely lacks the self-confident bravado of his previous four releases. However, there is evidence to suggest that Frank has matured somewhat as an artist since England Keep My Bones, and this makes Tape Deck Heart arguably his strongest record yet. Aside from possibly Sleep is for the Week, Turner's albums have always been a little bit scattershot, veering from punk-folk ballads to angry protest songs to wry comments about his lifestyle, and this has made them feel a little bit disjointed. Tape Deck Heart, though, is impressively focused and consistent, firing out a series of diverse, captivating songs about heartbreak. The one anomaly is Four Simple Words, a belligerent ode to punk rock concerts which manages to be likeable even though it features some genuinely terrible lyrics. "HI-HO HI-HO HI-HO," he bellows as if he was Shouty, the little known eighth dwarf, "WE'RE HEADING OUT TO THE PUNK ROCK SHOW! COLLEAGUES AND FRIENDS CONDESCEND WITH A SMILE YEAH BUT THIS IS MY CULTURE MAN, THIS IS MY HOME!" He sounds like an obnoxious 14 year old, and it sticks out like a sore thumb from his most cultured album to date, but throughout the entire song his heart is on his sleeve, and his jabs at "lacklustre scenesters from Shoreditch" are pretty funny, so it just about works. Still, its a very good thing that Four Simple Words is the exception rather than the rule. The rest of the album sees Turner draw out the breakdown of a relationship in raw, painful detail, and it is much more compelling that hearing him complain about all the people who
just dont understand him and his punk rock. After an entertaining but forgettable opening two songs, Tape Deck Heart really kicks into gear with the fantastic The Way I Tend to Be. Leaning towards the folk end of Turners musical spectrum, its a subdued but affecting piece with a catchy chorus, and is the first sign that maybe this album will pack a lot more emotion than the usual fist-pumping Frank fun. Indeed, whats striking about Tape Deck Heart is just how vulnerable Turner sounds. His previous attempts at love songs have largely been filled with anger and frustration, either at himself or his significant others, but here he sounds almost resigned to the fact that hes going to die alone. This is most evident in the rousing Fisher King Blues, in which he explicitly states that we were born without meaning, we will die without reason, and the world will not shrug all that much at our passing. The superb Plain Sailing Weather also follows on that theme of despair; over crunching guitars he howls give me one fine day of plain sailing weather, and I could fuck up anything, anything. It was a wonderful life when we were together and now Ive fucked up every little goddamn thing. This does not sound like the man who told us that we werent as messed up as we thought we were, and that our self-absorption made us messier, but who cares about the contradictions when the results are so fantastic? Franks even been able to put together a couple of nifty little slow ballads, never really his strong suit in the past. Tell-Tale Signs hooks you from its opening yelp of goddammit Amy! while at points on Anymore he sounds like he might just break down crying and make you do so with him. It would be wrong to suggest everything on this album is Turner at his best though. Quite aside from the frankly bizarre Four Simple Words, songs like Recovery, Polaroid Picture and Oh Brother dont really linger in the memory for much longer after theyve finished. Importantly though, the great moments on Tape Deck Heart are among the best in Turners entire back catalogue. This is an album that makes you feel genuinely sad having listened to it in full; none of his other works, as exciting and passionate as they all are, have that much of an effect on you. Id imagine that this doesnt mark a seismic shift in Franks career, and his next album will probably be more of the standard mix of wit, anger, and punk rock sensibilities that have brought him to the dance, and that would be fine. But its hard not to think, as Tape Deck Heart signs off with Broken Piano, that theres something very right about Frank Turner, fearful, wounded romantic. Broken Piano is really unsettling, and like nothing hes ever made before. Rain hammers in the background as Turner plays sad songs on a broken piano outside his exs window, a sinner among saved men on the banks of the murky Thames. An eerie ring heralds the songs arrival, booming, dramatic drums its conclusion. Lyrically its total Tom Waits, musically its like nothing weve ever heard from Turner before and, much like Tape Deck Heart as a whole, its absolutely fantastic.