The Taurus Triangle doesn’t necessarily sound like a band’s seventh album. That is to say, after putting out seven records in the span of 11 years, one might expect that German trio Burn Pilot — or Burnpilot, depending on who you ask — to have settled into something of a creative routine. Even if their sound was still growing, which by no means is a given, it would be at kind of a steady pace, in the same manner each time out.
That’s not the case with these seven tracks, which do indeed build on the style of 2014’s Intense, but do so in a way that seems to strip down that album’s approach down toward its core in songwriting that runs a span between modern boogie, rawer punk — hello, “Death by Machine Power” — and flowing psychedelia.
It’s a progressive blend that would pair exceedingly well with Russia’s The Grand Astoria on tour and even being my first experience with the work of brothers Sidney (vocals/drums) and Joel Jaffe (bass/vocals) and guitarist/vocalist Jonas Hehemann, it’s easy to hear the sense of accomplishment with which they move back and forth between the various elements at play, whether it’s beginning the crisp 34-minute run of the Pink Tank Records release with quiet, grunge-style guitar work before moving into the almost frenetic fits and shuffle of “Hit the City,” or injecting instrumental centerpiece “Levitation” with a bluesy lead and rolling, languid nod.
Because so much of their approach is based on push and movement and go-go-go-go-go, the actual scope of The Taurus Triangle feels subtle, and by no means does any single track represent the entirety of the album. Combined with the momentum the three-piece build as they move from one piece to the next, from “Hit the City” into the initial jangle and subsequent thrust of “Death by Machine Power,” and on from there, it’s that variety that makes The Taurus Triangle so intriguing.
Since they close with their longest song, the six-and-a-half-minute (they’ve gone much longer in the past) “Justice at Play,” side A has four tracks and side B three, and one finds that even with the initial push of the opening duo as it bleeds into the quieter start of “Krautrausch,” which almost tries to nestle into that Graveyardian heavy ’10s mid-paced boogie but can’t quite let go of the throttle by the finish of its build, the diversity of songwriting remains the most constant factor throughout.
Underlying that, of course, is a considerable amount of chemistry, not only between the brotherly rhythm section, but with Jonas as well. That may well be the most telling factor when it comes to understanding that Burn Pilot are on their seventh record.
Their songwriting is fluid despite its often angular take and more than just swapping back and forth between quiet and loud, fast and slow, they mount a dynamic take that plays up resonant hooks like that in “Krautrausch” and give each half of the record its due as a whole entity in addition to offering some standout factor in each song.
So yeah, they sound experienced. They are experienced. Maybe it’s because they’ve worked at a rate of putting out a record every year and a half — a classic model if ever there was one — and maybe it’s because The Taurus Triangle is my first time really digging into their sound, but it’s striking how established they come across while still being refreshingly energetic — to put it in a word: young — in their delivery.
Granted there’s a side-swap in between on the vinyl version, but the range is perhaps best displayed as “Krautrausch” and the flowing, solo-topped instrumental “Levitation” move into “Transformation,” which mirrors the earlier push, if in a somewhat expanded mindset, gradually moving toward a more intense thrust as it goes until by its end, the effects-laden solo gives way to a fuller sprint and the song caps with a build that cuts off to let “You Will Fall” take hold. It does so by teasing a slowdown and then reviving the gallop before opening again to its verse, also more ’90s than ’70s in its roots, and playing to more direct switches in tempo and drive.
In this way, Burn Pilot add breadth without giving up the already-noted momentum they’ve clearly worked to gain. And as one might expect, it’s up to “Justice at Play” as the finale to round out the front-to-back flow and summarize the ground covered and the methods by which they’ve covered it, which it does by boasting yet another blazing lead from Hehemann — there are many, they shine — some jagged, almost noise-rock groove, punker thrust, and heavy blues command. In one song.
For the simple fact that it doesn’t completely fall apart, The Taurus Triangle‘s closer impresses, but again, it’s hardly Burn Pilot‘s first time at the dance, and they very obviously know what they want their songs to do at any given point. I guess that’s the biggest takeaway from the record in the end.
Burn Pilot, as a group with more than a decade together under their belt, show themselves as having a dynamic songwriting process, fervent execution and a seemingly ongoing creative progression that one can hear sharply realized in their tracks. Seven albums later and still actively, willfully growing? I dare you not to admire that.