Post-punk trio BAMBARA's Love On My Mind is an energised and unlaboured expansion into new territory

Nevertheless, the Brooklyn trio’s latest EP are seeking to expand their field of vision through what is their most accessible work to date. A noticeable gear change from their noise rock roots, Love On My Mind showcases cleaner production, guest vocals, and an altogether tighter sound.

Kicking off proceedings is the almost onomatopoeically titled “Slither in the Rain”, which weaves together a brooding drumbeat and eerie, ascending synth motifs, creating an overarching sense of anticipation for something – or someone. And as the EP progresses, this expectation is assuredly realised; compared to the low, creeping atmosphere of the record’s opener, “Mythic Love” arrives all guns blazing, its rollicking drums and urgent bassline encapsulating the insistence of infatuation. While its more frantic moments put the listener in mind of a cowboy’s final showdown, the track is prevented from becoming a bit too ‘pistols at dawn’ by the jolting pace change and valuable addition of Bria Salmena’s rich vocals. The duet – something BAMBARA haven’t dabbled with on previous records – elevates it from a song about love to a love-song proper, providing a point of contrast to frontman Reid Bateh’s gravely delivery and introducing notions of light to the band’s shade.

Although thematically simpler than their critically acclaimed breakthrough, the concept album Shadow on Everything, this EP also underscores BAMBARA’s lyrical aptitude. “Spring”, begins “Birds” (an emphatically un-Spring-like song), “the time of year when tourists shiver on the beach / baby birds begin to fall out of the sidewalk trees”. Comprised of a series of similarly bleak metaphors, the track sketches a relationship of dashed hopes and harsh reality in a way that neatly sidesteps all the usual lovelorn cliches. Elsewhere, “Point and Shoot” and “Feelin’ Like a Funeral” add texture to the overall record via brass accents and slinky, Last Shadow Puppets-esque basslines. However, sandwiched as they are in the middle of the EP, these tracks do somewhat encounter the logistical issue of getting lost between those they’re bookended by.

Finishing on a high with record closer “Little Wars”, BAMBARA deploy a ‘less is more’ approach to great effect. Another track which benefits from the addition of guest vocals (this time from Drew Citron), its relatively sparse production spotlights the tortured interplay between her voice and Reid’s, their simultaneity conveying a sense of a conversation in which neither side is hearing the other.

Epitomising their record-by-record evolution from thrashing maximalism to more organised chaos, Love On My Mind demonstrates BAMBARA’s willingness to push their own stylistic boundaries and newly embrace a more collaborative process, proving that it is entirely possible to teach a (relatively) old dog some new tricks.