The October Game Wildblood

It’s probably useless for Bedfordshire’s The October Game to resist being marketed in the same breath as bands they wouldn’t wish to be. Us tired (lazy) critics are always tempted to group bands together based upon their seemingly common listening habits, and so The October Game will quickly be grouped with any British band that employ the staples of rustic Americana.

In saying this I don’t mean to undermine the band’s promotional claim to be a quintessentially British band, because undoubtedly singer Luke Williams boasts very British pipes, and the band lack the unrestrained bombast that seems to characterise much American indie as of late. But when lead single Greenbacks kicks in, its difficult not to think of Arcade Fire, Concrete (When We Were Invincible) calls to mind late-90s emo, and as mentioned above, elsewhere the band employ textures long-associated with Americana: soaring harmonies, unwavering acoustic rhythms and heart-on-sleeve lyrics. Not to mention the reindeer.

Where The October Game separate themselves is in the way they use these influences. Folk, Americana, and American indie are all absorbed into the band’s palette, but they never fully overtake the band’s sound and, more importantly, Wildblood never seems like a cynical attempt to exploit these influences to appeal to the current musical zeitgeist (Mumford & Sons, I’m looking at you). Rather, the album is lovingly constructed, technically flawless and at times fairly remarkable.

The aforementioned Greenbacks and Concrete perhaps lead the pack in terms of standout tracks, but nestled in the middle of the album are songs such as Where The Devil Loses Out and Biplanes at 2am, which buzz with a relentless but thoughtful energy. Elsewhere, Boxing Underwater ruminates upon relationships with a somewhat forced analogy, but since the track itself sounds like a battle between earthy and ambient, watery sounds, it succeeds. Both the ambient and climactic moments of Wildblood will no doubt invite more comparisons to American and European acts, yet despite this Wildblood manages to be familiar without ever really feeling derivative. Perhaps this is due to their scrupulous approach to song writing: these gentlemen are clearly students of music, both musicians and music fans. As such, the songs breathe with a quiet pride in their own precision.

This is, however, also Wildblood’s (perhaps only) major shortcoming: when the album soars to its various climaxes, we never really feel they’re letting go. Rather, each crescendo feels meticulously planned; each note studied and considered. No doubt this often works in their favour - and it does make a refreshing change from sloppiness that parades itself as authenticity - but it’s difficult to ignore the feeling that The October Game have put their hearts and brains into this, without ever really baring their soul. The album is always impressive, but fails to illicit the kind of heart-stopping, awe-inspiring moment it presumably shoots for.

Nonetheless, it’s unfair to take too much away from The October Game. The melodies on Wildblood are irresistible and the album repays careful attention as rewardingly as it hums unassumingly in the background. Self-produced, and made with a meagre budget, Wildblood is an impressive achievement and with it The October Game will begin to build a reputation as an antithesis to much of what has come out of Britain recently. Indeed, despite American and European influence, it definitely feels British and should appeal to a very British sensibility: The October Game are unrestrained in attention to detail and craft, but inhibited when it comes to displaying their emotions.