There are two things I could straight up say before we get into Bob Vylan‘s We Live Here. One is that Bobby Vylan isn’t too worried about the reviews, or what I think about the release (totally understandable). But hopefully I can reach just a few more people here who will then go on to care deeply about Bob Vylan and the scene they’re building. Secondly, the release of We Live Here is seemingly amazingly timely considering the current global momentum gathering behind the long standing Black Lives Matter movement. On release, Vylan said that “this project is scarily relevant to the climate we are living in right now and we didn’t want to wait another day!”. But this album didn’t spontaneously appear for this moment. We Live Here brings together more than a lifetime’s experience to give a blistering, unrelenting portrait of Britain. Through the eyes of a person who fucking lives here, and it has been scarily relevant for a long time.
We Live Here is a sharp eight tracks, and is currently only available via Bandcamp (digital and vinyl). It’s no secret that Bob Vylan came up against resistance from a lot of labels who deemed the release “too extreme”, most likely due to ‘its social commentary and the topics it tackles’. Having been around the industry a while, it’s a crying shame that there was hesitancy to support a release from an artist building a meaningful place for themselves, a record that is both vocally and musically articulate, has a strong voice and is insanely well produced. On the other hand however, it would have been more of a shame for We Live Here to have been dragged through any sort of “polishing” or censoring via A&R or PR processes.
Blending grime and punk; drones and pads are tangled in with hefty guitar riffs, unclean vocals and pacey live drums throughout the album. We Live Here moves fast; tracks flow with very little room to breathe and for any Londoner there’s a weird familiarity that feels just like this grimy city. Every track is a visceral examination of daily life as it comes through racism, bigotry, police brutality and political betrayal. England’s Ending is an apt commentary on systemic and governmental failings, while Lynch Your Leaders highlights racism and the grim hypocrisy and utter confusion that fogs around that idea of “we want our country back”.
Northern Line is menacing and frenetic; it’s tough to explain but everything about the track feels like the northern line. Fighting your way on at Camden Town, the dusty, grey platforms and the tired crowded trains all the way down to Stockwell… it’s a perfect analogy. Bob Vylan have previously collaborated and shared stages with Gallows former frontman Frank Carter, and aspects of We Live Here are reminiscent of the distopian 2009 album, Grey Britain. And the refrain of “I can’t breathe” holds all the weight of its original intent plus a whole lot more after the 25th of May.
The album launches into the title track right after the Intro; We Live Here has already received huge critical acclaim since the single release in March. Musically it thrashes through looming, inexorable riffs set against driving drumming, a punked out backdrop to Vylan’s impassioned words. Lyrically it is one of the most powerful moments on the record, a quickfire rebuttal and dismantling of racist tropes. Remembering Stephen Lawrence in the lyric (the proceeds from a limited run of vinyl went to The Stephen Lawrence Charitable Trust), We Live Here is a reminder that although this album might be timely in 2020, it was also timely at every point through the last fifty years and more.
The fact that the record starts out with an intro really makes you appreciate the format of the album. Something that gets lost a lot of the time now. The final track is A Moment Of Silence, which again would be so lost on a lot of streaming platforms but holds a real power as the sign off to this record.
For now We Live Here is available in digital format via Bandcamp, and Vylan has said that there will be another run of the sold out vinyl in the future. We’ll be waiting for venues reopening for the chance to see this live, but in the meantime, if you’ve listened to the album (then listened again) Vylan’s short reviews and discussions of various vinyls on Instagram is also a great place to be.
So two more things now I’ve wound this up: firstly don’t forget that on Friday June 19th Bandcamp will be donating 100% of their profit share to the NAACP Legal Defense Fund. Secondly, take a 10/10 Bob Vylan. Take the full five stars. Actually we don’t do a rating system because it’s a bit weird, but if we did we’re down to give top marks.
THATSWHATWETHOUGHT 