Frank Turner – “Poetry of the Deed”

I have a theory. I think that Frank Turner will only stop when they eventually put him in the ground – and even then, nothing is certain. In the last two years, he’s released two albums; received widespread critical and popular acclaim; signed to the world’s most respected punk label; and pursued a touring schedule frequently described as ’superhuman’. Amid this storm of activity, he even found the time to make a third album, and it’s an interesting change in direction.

The album opens strong with “Live Fast, Die Old”; reflective yet up-tempo, striking the perfect balance between romance and rock’n'roll. “Try This At Home” is an absolute gem – clocking in at a little under two minutes, it’s the shortest track on the record, but it’s short, sharp, and glorious. Turner belts out a flawlessly anthemic chorus over a wild acoustic riff, while a strangely jazzy piano tinkles away in the background. “Sons of Liberty” is a nod to the his punk roots, culminating in a line destined to be shouted back from the moshpit (so if ever a man should ask you / for your business or your name / tell him to go and fuck himself / tell his friends to do the same). Lead single “The Road”, meanwhile, is a blinding anthem with a hook that embeds itself into the front of your mind.

Title track “Poetry of the Deed” is a disappointment – the chorus feels stilted, and the songwriting lacks some of Turner’s usual poetic flair. “Richard Divine” recounts a suicide in grim detail, but feels directionless and slightly overproduced, while “Sunday Nights” is forgettable. The final pair of tracks, however, are both pure gold: “Our Lady of the Campfires” ascends in a wail of distorted guitars, before swooping into a stunning vocal melody over elegant piano. The album closes with Biblical ballad “Journey of the Magi”; a slow-jam with a country twang and a vivid narrative, that ebbs and flows and fades away.

Poetry of the Deed is essentially different to anything else Turner has produced to date, both musically and thematically. Turner’s band – capable musicians all – play a greater role than on previous albums, which gives the sound a much greater depth. The album’s tone has also undergone a marked shift: where previous efforts combined stinging attacks on society’s problems with deeply personal interludes, Poetry of the Deed feels both less personal and less radical. It’s not that the fire has gone out, but it’s not the same roaring inferno of youthful rage that made Song To Ruin such a powerful record.

There are moments of absolute genius here, and it’s a fascinating evolution in Turner’s writing style, which seems to become more polished with every new release. Poetry of the Deed is not perfect – in fact, it can take several listens before you start to properly appreciate it – but it’s pretty damn good. At a fundamental level, it’s a condemnation of human passivity; a call to arms for you to go out and enjoy your life – and, as soundtracks go, you could do a lot worse.

Our Verdict: