Other Peoples Problems is a modern symphonic force. A perfect clash of edgy digital and honest orchestrals – it feels like one of those rare works that capture the spirit of a generation. Then you tell me this is a debut album, and these guys are not only musicians, but film-makers and artists who all live together in a disused London Bank. It’s the centre for creatively disenfranchised, brilliant. How do I join?
Here we have an album moulded in the heart of the UK, with what looks like council apartments for cover art. It’s enormous trip-hop, synth-rock, hipster-bop, gangster-pop, is a constant attack on big city anonymity. The vocals claw for safety above the albums ingenious arrangement of fire-starting bass synths and brass and strings, reinvented for the revolution. What really hits me though is the direction of the music, it takes the path of a two year old with an etch-a-sketch. Never predictable. Always believable.
The intro of first track ‘Pacemaker’ is an obvious example of Breton’s sound. A somewhat serene violin melody, immediately slashed to bits by syncopated production; add bass and brick-wall drums; then mix in vocals that take pride in conversational simplicity and you have Breton.
I have not had such a strong feeling for an album yet, this side of 2010. It really is original. It finally demonstrates that a hybrid of digital and analog can work against each other to create something true. Plus, listening to it makes you feel like you could beat a construction site in a boxing match. Other People’s Problems, Brilliant, Breton, Buy it.