A Review of Frank Turner's New Album, Tape Deck Heart

Smells Like Teen Spirit

Here is a short review Dom and I (with the help of Jez) wrote one night.

Frank Turner’s use of Nirvana’s immortal line in his new album is more than a homage to 90s grunge; it is symptomatic of a theme coursing through the veins of his Tape Deck Heart: adolescence.  The work is an uncharacteristically profound exploration of  heart-break and bitterness, laced with disillusionment and cynicism.  And it’s delicious.         

There’s no doubting that Tape Deck Heart is a fruit of Turner’s loins.  The first three tracks are a continuation of England Keep My Bones: syncopated carpe diem sentiment in home-county vowels; the lyrical equivalent of ‘#YOLO’.  Whilst his previous albums, for the most part, remained paddling in these shallows, track four proves to be an energetic yet embittered turning-point at which Turner wades into the unfamiliar waters of a ‘break-up album’, where he fares remarkably well.  Track 5, Tell Tale Signs, is the post-mortem analysis of a messy separation in which Frank compares his old love to scars of self-harm etched into his arm with a disassembled disposable razor: an ever-present reminder of an immaturity now lost, both from his life and his music.   

Turner also seems to have lost his romantic optimism, declaring ‘Fuck you, Hollywood’ and ‘Amélie lied to me’, directing his anger at a happy ending that has so far eluded him.  Over the course of the album this frustration is aimed at more personal targets such as an estranged childhood friend, the infamous ‘Amy’ from England Keep My Bones, and seemingly his own parents. By the final track, Broken Piano, frustration gives way to plaintive acceptance as Frank finds himself sitting under an ex-girlfriend’s window playing a minor melody, his heartache prolonged by a haunting heartbeat outro, in what is a fitting end to the album.

If Broken Piano is the musical climax, Anymore is certainly the emotional pinnacle of Tape Deck Heart.   Turner’s signature simplicity of verse and a fresh fragility of voice forge a new, convincing, and poignant expression of love that ended ‘not with a bang, but with a whimper’, in a soulful epitome of the album's sentiment.

In Tape Deck Heart, Turner relives his painful transitional teenage years and lays bare misfortunes in love.  The album also embodies a musical puberty for a talented musician, who, in his simplicity, has found a vehicle for the profound.