New Model Army – Unbroken Review

[As is customary, artwork by the indomitable Joolz Denby]

Here is a random drawing of a dusty (possibly deranged) individual roaming the hills of New Mexico and enjoying some New Model Army. True: It is no Picasso.

Does New Model Army need a proper introduction here at Last Rites? They’ve been around for more than four decades, but they’re not exactly an entity most would consider a household name, despite producing an expansive discography that all very literally ranges from good-to-great. So, yes, for the sake of clarity here at Last Rites, please accept this terrifically brief introduction:

New Model Army is not a heavy metal band.

Hey, at least we got it out of the way early.

In truth, though, New Model Army has long been considered one of those weird sorta “metal outlier” bands, even if that’s never been the band’s intent. By the most basic definition, they are a rock band, but to allow the interpretation to end right there would do a tragic injustice to the amount of coloration that inspires fans to attach a menagerie of sub-genres to the output they’ve produced lo these many years. New Model Army’s roots are in post-punk, but they morphed into folk rock, dabbled in alternative, touched on metal, and even managed to poke around areas of soul and industrial, all of which continues to be the case today. In other words, throw any notions of classic rock right out the flipping window and accept the fact that New Model Army is one of those wonderfully unique entities that merits their very own private island. GILLIGAAANNN!!!

As far as whyyyyy this particular concoction continues to appeal to those of us into the heavy heavies, I would look to New Model Army’s ageless penchant for bleakness and a notably introverted / isolationist’s approach to songwriting as key contributors. Furthermore, these guys have always shirked the more frivolous side of lyrical matters in favor of diving headfirst into sociopolitical issues and weighty themes that explore everything from rebellion to religion to… well, survival amidst stretches where doing so seemed less than likely. It’s serious stuff, basically, and the brooding and often peeved manner in which New Model Army presents itself has the potential to appeal to those who look toward heavy metal to satisfy and vent similar pangs. If one last contributing factor could be offered, though, I’d point toward the band’s perseverance as a purely underground act as something that quickly resonates with the metal community. NMA undoubtedly had a number of opportunities to break into more mainstream audiences, but contrary to an endeavor such as U2 that (believe it or not) had a similar launch amidst a notably post-punked youth, New Model Army never allowed the potential for commercial success to eclipse and therefore shittify their overall design.

With so many stylistic arrows in the quiver, it’s not terribly surprising to discover that a good bit of variance separates the different eras of the band. It’s all unmistakably NMA, mind you, thanks to a few insistent core elements—namely the rugged, ever-present voice of Justin Sullivan—but designs and methods obviously have a way of shifting with the changing of the times. As such, the band’s earliest years heated by youth were the most raw and punky (inaugural bowshot Vengeance is a real banger), and the nowadays version has evolved, refined and tempered to a point where the requisite amount of “hoary veteran” has become marbled into the flesh and muscle of each release. Think of it in a similar light as, say, modern Iron Maiden or Neurosis: the crux is still very much there, but decades of weather and hardships have worn the edges of the comfortable but heavy armor. And with age and the relentless consequence of time comes all the awareness, insight and sufferance needed to inspire a turn of creative focus even more inward, resulting in works that feel increasingly personal and maybe a bit more… redemptive. 2019’s excellent From Here felt like the culmination of this force, and now with album number sixteen, Unbroken, we get… Well, a bit of a surprise, to be honest.

Where From Here opted to underscore a fairly cushioned atmosphere suitable for late-night reflection and solitude, Unbroken elects to reunite with pure energy, power and, at times, sweet sweet anger. It may not feel that way from the gate, though, as opener “First Summer After” holds at its crux that familiar “solemn nomad” sense befitting of an album like Winter (2016), but as the album starts to unfold you really get a sense of resolute vigor and punch. I assume this was calculated, because the band is set to embark on an extensive 2024 tour and so much of this album sounds VERY alive and inclined to detonate from the stage. Check out “I Did Nothing Wrong,” a tune that explores the hardships rooted in the recent British Post Office scandal.

“I Did Nothing Wrong” spends its front half sort of gingerly stomping the street in a curiously restrained manner, and then BOOM: the boot kicks in the door at the halfway point. This gives the track a nice heft as it chugs down to the closing minute, where the record’s only solo angrily reels atop the full band shouting through the chorus. New Model Army does indeed love a pattern where the crux doesn’t fully hit until about a minute or two in, and at least half of Unbroken exhibits a similar spirit and punch as the heart of “I Did Nothing Wrong.” What’s changed in 2024 is a collective effort to underscore the stout rhythmic side of the NMA design. Drums and bass have always been a vital key to the band’s success, but here—and with the help of a wonderful mix from none other than Tchad Blake—Michael Dean (drums) and Ceri Monger (bass) have all the room in the world to bend, bounce, tromp and storm. The way “Reload” kicks in after 40s and the bass just bulldozes until the song eventually rolls into near industrial territory, for example. Or how “Coming or Going” hits like a proper metal banger, and “Deserters” tromps out an obscenely thicc bass line that closes out the album on a wonderfully blaring note. It all sounds very BIG in 2024 for New Model Army.

Unbroken is not without its more moody and customarily folky / somber / reflective side, however. The wintry “Cold Wind,” for example, drifts and calls out like a distant funeral dirge, its solemn mood bolstered by touches of light orchestration. Or “If I Am Still Me,” a slow rumbler with a driving bass line and a martial beat that’s suitably offset by Dean White’s understated, jangly/gloomy fret play and Sullivan’s comfortingly overcast chants. And of course the aforementioned “First Summer After,” which paints a sweeping and beautifully sullen picture by slipping back into the gothy, post-punk veneer of the band’s youth.

On a personal note, I consider myself lucky to have a long history with this band—initiated back around 1991 when I came across a used CD copy of Vengeance / The Independent Story whilst working the front desk of a new and used record store. I wasn’t always front and center for all NMA activities in the ensuing piles and piles of years, but the path to a very contented reunion has forever been effortless because of the seamless »connectability« factor that’s inherently attached to the full spectrum of their output. That might actually be NMA’s greatest strength: the way their music continues to find interesting ways to connect with the endless challenges, struggles and unanswered questions at the crux of everyday life. New Model Army is… all of us, and there is a great comfort in that pure relatability that stretches through each and every one of their records, Unbroken very thankfully included.

And here’s the kicker: I would not hesitate to hand over Unbroken to someone who has yet to experience this band. Given New Model Army’s history and consistency across sixteen studio efforts, that might seem improbable, but it really is a great litmus test in that it offers an ideal snapshot of the full New Model Army blueprint in a very efficient 45 minutes. So, if you’re new to the band and Unbroken somehow doesn’t manage to resonate? Obviously no harm done. But if it does? Hooooooo, lordy, an epic adventure lies ahead.