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Glancing at the tracklist for Money<\/a>\u2019s sophomore LP Suicide Songs<\/em>, one might suspect singer\/songwriter Jamie Lee has a tenuous relationship with subtlety. Titular track aside, the record touts audacious titles such as \u201cCocaine Christmas and an Alcoholic\u2019s New Year\u201d and opening anthem \u201cI am the Lord.\u201d The album art is no less provocative, featuring a par-naked Lee balancing a knife on his forehead. Though these names and images may seem flippant on paper, the gorgeous density of Money\u2019s music elevates them contextually; there isn\u2019t a scrap of irony to be had here.<\/p>\n

The Mancunian band made a grand entrance with their debut record The Shadow of Heaven<\/a> <\/em>(Bella Union) in 2013, a dazzling hymnal pop opus that is nothing if not beautiful and original. The album dealt with dense themes, manifesting in songs such as \u201cSo Long (God is Dead)\u201d and \u201cThe Cruelty of Godliness.\u201d<\/p>\n

In keeping with the last record, Lee is approaching concepts laden with baggage and trying to look at them from a different vantage point, perhaps imbuing them with new meaning along the way.<\/p>\n

“Above all else, I’m just trying to project and portray a poetic truth,\u201d Lee said in a press release. \u201cSuicide is about anonymity, to the point where you don’t exist, which I definitely feel in my songwriting and as a person. But rather than writing myself out of anonymity, I want to remain there, in this record at least. It’s recognizing a kind of sacrificial nature, in making artistic choices. By rummaging around in your feelings and trying to make sense of life, to the detriment of your health, there might be some poetic value to what you have created.”<\/p>\n

In a strange way, despite the intensity of Suicide Songs<\/em>, it does seem Lee has achieved a sort of anonymity, if only due to the force of the album\u2019s instrumental arrangements. His vocals are less pristine on this new material\u2026there is a drunk and snarling slouch to them, and they easily surrender to the orchestral maelstrom of each track. He sounds raw, worn and drowned by desperation, but with good reason. In a press release, Lee confirms that he “wanted the album to sound like it was ‘coming from death’ which is where these songs emerged.”<\/p>\n

It seemed that The Shadow Of Heaven <\/em>would be a difficult act to follow up, but this new record is nowhere near slumping. Instead, it\u2019s leaping upwards towards vast sonic peaks employing horns, strings, choirs, sorrow, and pandemonium. It is, in a word, a BIG album. Sprawling and open, it practically generates its own tidal system.<\/p>\n

\u201cI am the Lord\u201d kicks off with lulling strings that resolve to twanging guitar. It builds with atmospheric hand drums, and ghostly harmonies reminiscent of Cocteau Twins<\/a>. Lee diminishes the implication of the song\u2019s title when he sings \u201cI don\u2019t want to be god, I just don\u2019t want to be human.\u201d It\u2019s the kind of otherworldly, yet oddly relatable statement that has become Money\u2019s lyrical trademark.<\/p>\n

Part lullaby, part funeral ballad, \u201cYou Look Like a Sad Painting on Both Sides of the Sky\u201d is a strangely sweet\u00a0song. It is one of the more sonically sparse offerings on the record, sticking to hushed acoustic guitar and piano, with understated drums and cello. But its pretty simplicity doesn\u2019t ebb its melancholy. In fact, the contrast seems to heighten our sense of woe as Lee belts out lines such as: \u201cthere will be music all around, when they put me in the ground.\u201d<\/p>\n

The entire album is rife with this sort of tension, whether it lies in the discrepancy between lyrical content and the key of the song, or Lee\u2019s ability as a composer to make you feel uplifted and miserable at the same time. This isn\u2019t a record for people who like background music. The closer you listen, the more nuances you can enjoy. It\u2019s a piece of work that unfurls more with every play.<\/p>\n

In \u201cNight Came\u201d Lee establishes himself as a modern maestro of crescendo. The track commences in sprawling, muted riffs only to rise steadily into a skyward collision. But the album\u2019s most powerful track is without a doubt \u201cAll My Life,\u201d a banging six and a half minutes of heartrending majors and plummeting minor chords. This is Lee at his biggest, holding nothing back. Not reverb, not gospel harmonies, not lead guitar, and certainly not a full drum kit. But once again, the emotive scale of the song is undercut by bleak lyrics. In the chorus Lee confesses \u201call my life I\u2019ve been searching for something, so I always ended up with nothing,\u201d a truth that leaves him neither here nor there.<\/p>\n

Part of what makes this record so great is that it was composed as nothing less than an album<\/em>; as a continuous narrative in which each song sonically relates to the next, like chapters in a book. While so many contemporary LPs seem thrown together as a compilation of disparate tracks, Suicide Songs <\/em>maintains a dense thread throughout its 42 minutes. And this thread is as much formal as it is textual. Lee delivers a consistent dose of heady subject matter, yes, but he\u2019s also managed to arrange this album to bear the aural equivalent of dramatic structure; grabbing our attention with \u201cI am the Lord,\u201d building to the crashing climax of \u201cAll My Life<\/a>,\u201d and settling with \u201cCocaine Christmas and an Alcoholic\u2019s New Year\u201d (the latter having Lee at his most Tom Waits).<\/p>\n

At the end of the day, Lee does seem to prefer the overt to the subtle, as he plainly explains that “the record is morbid and bleak, and never resolves itself. The only real kind of triumphant realization is being able to express the morbidity of the situation I found myself in.” It\u2019s the kind of statement you\u2019d expect from someone like Lee, a self-effacing British musician, but I\u2019d say that Suicide Songs<\/em> is triumphant all on its own. Period.<\/p>\n

Suicide Songs\u00a0<\/em>is out now on Bella Union<\/a>.<\/p>\n