Hefner

Breaking God’s Heart

January 15, 2008

By Mr. Marlowe

**** / ****

Released 1998

Where does Hefner register on the rock n’ roll radar? Were the British folk rock lads ever popular in their native UK? Has anyone in The US, save the gotta-know-everyone critics, even heard of these fellas let alone heard their music? Without the slightest knowledge of these burning questions one inevitable truth pushes to the forefront: ten years after their first sonic tremors hit my airwaves I remain convinced that Hefner, in all its incarnations, is a piece of late ‘90s, early millennium indie rock greatness. That’s right, greantness. And in Breaking God’s Heart, the first entry in the band’s very interesting catalogue, Hefner has created a perfect opening act for their numerous talents and an extremely satisfying debut album.

Clearly influenced by the old manic panic of The Violent Femmes and with a clever touch of UK cynicism and political what-have-you, Breaking God’s Heart is a delicately raucous affair. Lead singer Darren Hayman’s voice is a love it or leave it affair, as with The Femmes’ Gordon Gano, and like that unruly troubadour Hayman’s lyrics are picture perfect portraits of inner turmoil, outer frustration, and an all over celebration of awkward jovial enjoyment. “She promised me three wishes and all I wish is she’d remain here,” croons Hayman on The Sad Witch, before he breaks into further mystical illusion and allusion to the power of falling in love with someone he probably should not, “and I don’t care if she floats or drowns.” It’s good stuff, punctuated by a clear voice tormented and caressed by God, romance, and a dynamic backing band that shimmers with irresistible love and sincerity. And the further one goes into Breaking God’s Heart, the more the album rocks with introspection and jangly guitars, a perfect combo in any decade.

The music, however, isn’t merely the usual guitar, bass, and drums format. Listen for strange harmonics on The Librarian and in paticular, Another Better Friend. In the latter the tempo slows, the acoustic guitar is pulled from the mothballs, and the lyrics get really sentimental. Brilliant! And take note of Eloping, the album closer, which goes from modest drum and bass start-stop dynamics for the first half until and an all out frenzy of slide guitar, feedback, and scratchy guitar pandemonium closes the show. And there’s Hayman, with his call to start over with love anew, brining the whole thing back to earth with precision sentimentality. It’s a rather stunning, really, abold statement and great last word for a band that had only just begun.

Going track to track there are virtually no throwaways on Breaking God’s Heart, a shocker when it comes to any band’s debut album. And with plenty of pure rock, odd flourishes, countrified shake, nostalgic laments, and keen British sensibility holding the whole show together, this debut album represents the perfect opening act and a promise of more to come that Hefner certainly lived up to over their eight year career. They would make more ambitious albums, and one masterpiece in 2001’s Dead Media, but in Breaking God’s Heart Hefner planted the seeds they would eventually nurture in a variety of unique and breathtaking ways. Breaking God’s Heart isn’t earth shattering but it is an enormous triumph, a wonderful little album that deserves much more attention than it has received.

Best Songs: Another Better Friend, The Sad Witch, The Sweetness Lies Within, The Librarian, Eloping