England Take My Bones
England Take My Bones is Frank Turner’s fourth full-length release, and it’s been put out by a pretty major label (Epitaph). The British singer/songwriter has been winning over international audiences and touring with the likes of Chuck Ragan, Flogging Molly, Green Day, and Social Distortion — to name only a few. His confident coupling of traditional folk songs and fiery, punk-tinged rock ‘n’ roll is rivaled by few, and his ability to command a room with the muscle of his voice rivaled by even fewer.
At this point, there is absolutely no excuse for music fans to not know who Frank Turner is.
His current contribution to the canon of popular music files down the rough edges of recordings past to present a polished product that will prove to be timeless.
Opening with a horn-laden sad Irish hymnal confessional that declares I haven’t always been a perfect person/ and I haven’t done what Mum and Dad had dreamed/ but on the day I die I’ll say/ ‘At least I fucking tried’, and closing a breathtaking hour later with the organ-led loss of faith celebration “Glory Hallelujah” (whose tongue-in-cheek chorus There is no God/ so clap your hands together is sweet in its bitterness), Turner’s songwriting has spread its wings. England Take My Bones is the first of what’s surely to become many masterpieces.
Strumming melodies with singable lines and beer-raising bridges are in abundance, as on previous outings. “Peggy Sang the Blues,” “I Am Disappeared,” and “If Ever I Stray” are a few of the best songs yet to burst from Frank Turner’s brain, and “I Still Believe” — the reigning king of last year’s Rock ‘n’ Roll EP — smiles brightly at the beginning breath of this fine release, for those who missed it the last time around.
“Wessex Boy,” “Nights Become Days,” and “Redemption” — a trio of soul-baring laments — quietly play the last call at albums’ end before “Glory Hallelujah” tosses back that last Fuck it all! shot that kills the pain and welcomes the night.
Frank Turner: www.frank-turner.com