Everyone thought, by the 2020s, the urban-poet archetype seemed dead in the water, until Mancunian Antony Szmierek gave the genre much-needed CPR. Blending EDM and spoken word, Szmierek feels like Mike Skinner updated for Gen Z. If Skinner was the sound of the streets, Szmierek is the sound of Gen-Z anxiety. He follows in the footsteps of the early 2000s and the conversational style The Streets helped to popularise, which the likes of Jamie T and Plan B would also go on to explore.
With his debut album ‘Service Station At The End of The Universe’ earning wide critical acclaim, Szmierek has returned a little over a year later, intent on breaking the infamous sophomore slump as early as possible. The title of ‘Decoding Birdsong’ suggests uncertainty and confusion: a sense of apophenia, a desperate search for a sign you’re on the right path.
Immediately, the shuddering 808 drive of ‘Chalk’ examines luck and superstition, with Szmierek delivering what Dork dubbed ‘sprechge-rave’ as he ruminates that“cause and effect could be my big break”. Existentialism, luck, and superstition permeate the project, reflecting the pressure of following up a well-received debut. ‘Bookie’s Favourite’ pulsates with a snare-led garage rhythm, flickering as featured artist Ellur’s smooth vocals lead a chorus of “I know it now / I’m the bookie’s favourite for something.” With Imogen and The Knife on backing vocals, ‘Flight Simulator’ leans into techno production, semi-panicked in its monologue of trying to fly a plane with no experience. With its Duskus-style electronica, synth plucks and a bassy thump, it lands as a moving analogy for imposter syndrome.
Across the album, Szmierek explores different avenues of electronic music, rattling through each one with the flow of a mate having an existential moment in a smoking area. Despite this stress, hope still shines through. ‘The Heron’ is anchored by peppy disco-house piano and lyrics Szmierek describes as ’a manifesto for survival’: a dancey act of stoicism amid the heron’s indifference toward “self-service checkouts or pouches of tobacco.” Reappearing later on with the pseudo-reprise ‘The Same Heron Again’, the titular bird becomes a motif, even getting Szmierek’s spoken word to veer into precise, tightly coiled rap over a progressive trance mix of the earlier melody.
Venturing into drum and bass with another collaboration, MAX RAD features on ‘Dave’s Angling Superstore’, bursting with bass synth and heavy breakbeats around the mantra “Find something you love and get all lost in it”. With no time to breathe, darts of synth and percussive drum machines signal ‘The First Five Minutes of Magnolia’ as Pretty Girl softly sings of “I’ve been looking for signs, when nothing was real / Magnolia.” Rambling about the Paul Thomas Anderson film, Szmierek asks, “Have you seen the film Magnolia?” in a question that feels like a sly reference to film-bro pretentiousness, as he questions coincidence and our tendency to force meaning.
Despite a largely optimistic tone across its runtime, the album’s closing trio of tracks feel oddly resigned compared to the ten that came before. ‘You’re Not Supposed To Do This Forever’ is soft romantic house, as Szmierek opens up to listeners with words of “The chances of us being here are slim to very fucking unlikely / and I mean that in a nice way.” The title track ‘Decoding Birdsong’ reintroduces trance, burying the words “Sorry you couldn’t be everything I wanted you to be” beneath strobing, sweat-soaked synths. The closer, ‘Aussie Gold Hunters,’ embodies bittersweet minimalism, with droning synths and a tightly sequenced, snare-driven drum pattern that support Szmierek’s racing thoughts as he watches TV and reflects on his life before his music career took flight.
Comfortably avoiding the sophomore slump, Szmierek’s usual wit and gift for a punchline are softened in favour of newfound vulnerability. While his sardonic sheen mostly remains, he spends much of the record admitting to his audience that he doesn’t know what he’s doing either, with droll reflections on luck and the road to fame he’s found himself on. This honesty is integral to the electro-poetry of ‘Decoding Birdsong’: a meditation on accepting that sometimes there aren’t clear-cut answers or signs, and that’s okay.
Keir Shields
Image: ‘Decoding Birdsong’ album cover
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