‘The Imperfectionist’, the fourth studio album from the eco-minded collective Nothing Concrete, lives up to its name in more ways than one. Recorded in the group’s own eco-friendly studio in the south of France, the sound of the album is earthy, personal, and wonderfully imperfect. Drawing from the group’s diverse backgrounds and interests, the songs mix afrobeat, tango, and blues influences in a charmingly lo-fi sound that brims with life and human feeling. Fronted by songwriting duo Fergus McKay and Gaia Miato, the album has the feel of a definitive statement, a creative distillation of ideas and concepts. Helped along by New York producer Keith Witty, the songs on ‘The Imperfectionist’ retain Nothing Concrete’s rough, honest edge without sacrificing their precision and professionalism.
The first track, “The Boats”, sets the tone for the album with a sound that is both personal and expansive. The lyrics are political without being overtly so, addressing issues of migration and identity in a way that is both poetic and profoundly affecting. The sentiment of the song is one of empathy and understanding, achieved not through heavy-handedness but through its unassuming simplicity. “Broken Bird” is slower and softer, its gentle chords belying the power of its carefully chosen lyrics. The feeling evoked by the song is one of delicate but palpable pain, tinged with a sense of acceptance and dignity. “Cometh The Hour” is a more up-tempo track, with a groove that is more confident and punchy, like the wordless acceptance of a difficult truth. The track “Empty Whiskey Bottle Mariachi Blues” is a colorful blend of styles, its lyrics and music laced with an infectious, self-assured quirkiness. “He Don’t Do Much Of That Now” is simpler and slower, almost conversational in its approach, but the emotions it stirs are powerful. The title track, “The Imperfectionist”, is the emotional center of the album, with unadorned lyrics, an unapologetically bold arrangement, and a lyrical punch that lingers long after the song is over.
“John Henry Lee” is dusty and earthy, like the sound of a song being sung on an old porch. Then “No Force” picks up the pace again, with its quiet urgency and carefully chosen words that carry weight without overstating their importance. “S.O.S (Save Our Souls)” has an immediacy that isn’t frantic, a kind of pleading knowing that there might not be any listeners at the other end of the line. The album’s closer, “The Western”, is cinematic and big, a final note on an album that is as human as it is profound. ‘The Imperfectionist’ is not an album that aims for or is hampered by the need for perfection. Instead, it is a statement about truth and honesty and what it means to be real. And in that, Nothing Concrete succeeds with aplomb, grit, and soul.
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