Benjamin Jayne: “Broken” (2023) CD Review

Perhaps it is because of the current insanity in our country, or maybe it is simply a natural part of aging and would happen regardless of the world’s present nuttiness, but many people are looking inward, trying to figure out just what went wrong in their own lives and whether it’s too late to get back on track. Somewhere along the journey, certain dreams and goals vanished, and the course was altered. What happened? And how did people get wrapped up in all the outside garbage and nonsense, and lose sight of who they were? The future is getting smaller, and the past is growing, and neither seems all that enticing. On his new album, Broken, Benjamin Jayne addresses these ideas, these fears, this concern, this dread, and does so with some excellent songwriting. Benjamin Jayne is the name that Vermont-based psychiatrist Benjamin Wright uses for his artistic endeavors. Broken is his third solo album, following 2021’s Theater.

The album opens with “A Million Miles,” which has a dark and ominous electronic vibe as it starts before the vocals come in. Interestingly, the vocals have a softer, but somewhat eerie sound, and then there is a positive feel to a line like “I’m just trying to find my way.” But right after that, there is a pause, and we feel like we are surrounded by dark winds, and otherwise alone, before the music comes back. “My body’s filled with fear/I don’t know which way to go/A million miles from home.” We feel that fear as we listen. We experience it, feeling so far from who we were, who we thought ourselves to be. Yet there is hope there, even as he tells us, “Hey, it’s all over.” Perhaps the hope is created more in our minds than in the song itself, as a necessary reaction. A different sound greets us as the second track, “Give Up, Don’t Give Up,” begins, powered by acoustic guitar. This is some pretty work, though there is a sense of nervousness too. Sometimes I think it would be easier to give up on my goals and my dreams, rather than work toward them and possibly face disappointment and failure, particularly at this relatively late date. But it’s not easy to give up, at least not as easy as it sounds. “Peace and tranquility/We’re floating out in the sea/The salt covers the wound.” And the swirling power of the electric guitar overtakes us toward the end.

“Wake up, the buildings are dancing/City silhouette is swaying/I hear people praying,” Benjamin Jayne sings in “Shoot Through The Wire.” What a striking image. Because of course dancing is generally a very positive and joyful thing, but when buildings are moving, no good can come of it, and nothing good can cause it. This one has a surprisingly catchy rhythm in the guitar, and makes use of some interesting electronic effects. The song ends up as kind of a nightmare, where things are out of our control, a dream or fantasy gone wrong, with children playing but sounding like they’ve already passed from this world. That’s followed by “Somewhere Far Away,” which begins with an electronic beat, a pulse. And maybe this is just a dream, just a thought, something far off. “Let his mind take flight, uh-huh/Somewhere far away/On a great escape, uh-huh.” And suddenly it becomes a positive thing, letting go of pain, letting go of the struggles, at least in one’s thoughts. And perhaps taking on the electronic pulse is a way of casting aside human frailties and adopting a different mental state. Then that electric guitar part in the middle has a mournful quality, like it is calling out into the darkness, remembering and asking. “We all have dreams to chase/And ourselves to save, uh-huh.” This song is more and more appealing to me as it progresses. And here Benjamin Jayne visits an idea from Shakespeare’s work, singing “And the world is a stage.”

In “Love,” he asks, “Is this really happening to me?” That’s something all of us ask at one point or another. Sometimes it is in disbelief, sometimes in anger at what seems unfair. But sometimes it is in wonder, like we don’t deserve something so good, and we are surprised to find ourselves in such a great position. “We all want to find love, don’t we?” That’s followed by “(Numb) I Can’t Feel A Thing.” Dark waves at the beginning give way to some nice work on guitar, and this track features one of the album’s best vocal performances. “And I thumb through memories I’ve had/Life’s not the same/It’s not the same/And I can’t feel a thing.” This is another of the disc’s highlights for me, a fantastic song.

“Broken,” the album’s title track, likewise begins with a dark rumbling. “Noise all around, noise all around/I think I’m broken, I think I’m broken.” I guess we all have those thoughts from time to time, though lately it is more often that I feel other people are broken. Broken and unaware, and not contemplating their state. “And I need something to go my way/This time/And I need someone to walk by side/This last mile.” That quick addition of “This last mile” is striking, for before that, the line has kind of a sweet sense about it. “And I’m dying/And I’m dying,” he sings. And then do we actually hear the end? There is a rupture, a rumbling, and then the track fades out. Is that what it will be like? That’s followed by “The Symbol.” Early in this one, he sings, “Corrupted, and spreading/Like a cancer through the body.” Yes, we again are in a dark land. But then interestingly he sounds more certain as he sings, “We will take, we will take, we will take back what’s ours,” his voice closer to us there, and so we believe him. Soon he sings, “The glass is half full,” the line expressing an optimistic outlook. But that outlook doesn’t necessarily change the reality of the situation, as he sings, “I can’t see anything other than the darkness in front of me.” After that he sings about a symbol in the sky, and it becomes clear this song is about Batman. The electronic landscape doesn’t offer much comfort or support, but he repeats those lines about taking back what’s ours again just before the end, and there is strength and determination in his delivery.

He mentions darkness in “A Familiar Face” too, in the song’s first lines: “I open my door, let the darkness in/Give it a warm place by the fire to sit.” Those first lines do remind me of “Dire Wolf,” though this song has a much different feel than that song. This track has a rather frightening vibe. After a brief pause in the second half (and he makes such great use of those sorts of pauses throughout the material on this album), the song overwhelms us, envelops us. This is another of my personal favorites. The album’s final track, “Good Night, Good Bye,” has a surprisingly sweet and positive sound at the start, as if determined to leave us in a better place. “Sleep tight by my side.” Perhaps with that special person by our side, the nightmares won’t reach us. That seems right to me. “Don’t get carried away/I want you to stay/Don’t go away.” There is a beauty to this song, and yet he says goodbye here. “Don’t fight, don’t cry/Good night, good bye.” This song has a longer pause than the other tracks, and there is a change after that, for that final instrumental section.

CD Track List

1. A Million Miles
2. Give Up, Don’t Give Up
3. Shoot Through The Wire
4. Somewhere Far Away
5. Love
6. (Numb) I Can’t Feel A Thing
7. Broken
8. The Symbol
9. A Familiar Face
10. Good Night, Good Bye

Broken was released on October 13, 2023.