Augie March
Watch Me Disappear
Sony/ BMG



The title of Augie March's fourth album alludes to it, and listening to 'Watch Me Disappear' it's hard not to be struck by a recurring theme of escape. Easily their most anticipated album after One Crowded Hour turned them into unlikely pop stars, it's quite possibly these very expectations that they're trying to outrun. This being Augie March, though, the worlds that Glenn Richards is escaping from are richly populated and wonderfully described.

He vividly conjures up the crushing loneliness of a desperate scion doomed to work his family property in Farmer's Son and the harsh Tasmania of The Slant, in which convicts would kill their fellows to be given the death penalty and put out of their misery. City Of Rescue begins by mimicking the sound of a car engine trying to start, but never is the theme more obvious than in Becoming Bryn, the chorus of which is simply the word "run" repeated over and over. Another theme that raises its head in that track and several others is that of the monster within, and undoubtedly the spectre of more slick and radio-ready sound rears its head throughout this album thanks to Joe Chicarelli's (Counting Crows, U2, The Shins) production.

Fortunately, the songs themselves are fine beasts - the wistful, resigned air of The Slant allays the brutality of the scene it describes and turns it into a tragic eulogy, while the frantic energy of The Glenorchy Bunyip veers into ramshackle blues-rock territory. Pennywhistle certainly comes as something of a surprise; a chirpy number based around a sample of that very instrument with horns clamouring joyfully in the background, it is the most immediately catchy piece the band have ever recorded, though there's still plenty to parse in Richards' lyrics. As they have before, these also provide a saving grace when necessary, as on the somewhat ponderous Mugged By The Mob, which does drag on a little but retains some interest through the narrative

Richards has described Becoming Bryn as "Augie by numbers" and that track is perhaps most reminiscent of their past successes, but fills in all the spaces that might have existed in the past. This may be construed negatively by long-term fans, but it's merely a result of a new producer rather than a change in approach - the dark themes and poetic lyrics still fit only with the most subversive of radio fare. 'Watch Me Disappear' has plenty of melodies to get lost in to go with the wry wordplay, and enough strong moments to call it the boys' most complete album to date.

Alexis Buxton-Collins