Maybe friendship is what really matters: Black Country, New Road Transform the Paper Tiger

By Lauren Hernandez

Maybe I’m a Black Country, New Road purist — sue me! I like what I like, and as I was watching BCNR perform at the Paper Tiger, I felt like I could only see blank space that never lived up to the high points. 

Like, me and my friends were listening to their first album in the car on the way home, and I just kept thinking — where’s that edge? That spark? 

And truthfully, I consider myself a HUGE BCNR fan. Maybe one of the biggest. They were my most listened-to band in 2022. I’m completely obsessed. I swear to anyone and everyone that Black Country, New Road is truly the best band of this modern era — and I mean it. I can’t think of anyone better. 

And I KNOW nobody wants to hear me complain about new BCNR music, but I have to. Because ever since their lead singer, Isaac Wood, left, BCNR is different. Their sound is still phenomenal. I remember I saw them open up for Black Midi at the Mohawk in Austin last year (surreal, I know) and I was truly blown away. I mean, I was in tears. They played all new music, since they promised to never play their first two albums without Wood, and it was stunning. 

Later, those songs they played were released on a full album, Live at Bush Hall. When BCNR announced that they’d be stopping in San Antonio for their latest tour, deep down I was hoping to hear the songs I always listen to by them — the ones with Wood. Obviously, that was not the case.

The show was remarkable nonetheless. The six-piece band is truly talented, taking their craft more seriously than I’ve ever been about anything in my life. 

Parts of the sweltering hot night that stuck out to me were the ways that one member during each song would conduct the rest of the band. Also, since the last time I saw them, the band has picked up even more instruments, including the mandolin (I think that’s what it was?), banjo, and accordion on top of their use of flute, violin, saxophone, piano, drums, guitar, and bass. Each member of BCNR is insanely, immensely talented. The band doesn’t look like much. They don’t dress crazy or really have any stage presence, but they know it doesn’t matter. They are dedicated.

During their performance of Turbines/Pigs, I got chills. It was stunning. It blew me away. Their last two songs were definitely the pinnacle of the night, with the bassist delivering vocals that twisted my heart, and the drummer being so into it that as he screamed into his mic, his glasses flew off.

It’s hard to write about music like this. You really just have to hear it. How can I explain that a band with the sound and talent of a full orchestra turned the dingy Paper Tiger into a serene experience? 

Other people elucidated this experience way better than I’m writing about it.

My friend Charlie, whom I ran into after the show, said “Black Country, New Road is just a beautiful, beautiful band, and this was the most people experience at the Paper Tiger that I’ve ever had. BCNR friends forever!”

After talking to him, I overheard my friend Miles saying “My ears don’t hurt, my body doesn’t hurt. It was a good time. I think this is the most positive experience I’ve ever had here. I was smiling the whole time.”

My friend Bella, who’d never heard of the band before but decided to tag along, said “I really liked it, it was like going through a forest.”

My sister Kendall “thought it was cool. My favorite part was when it got actually loud, and the drummer was screaming. I thought that was sick.”

BCNR is a whole new band now. They lack their inventive, postmodern lyrics, their distortion and aggression, but people still love them and seem to want more. So maybe I’m in the wrong, and no one else gives a fuck that BCNR has taken a more folky, grassroots route. Oh well.

Though the band didn’t sound too hopeful about returning to San Antonio, Texas anytime soon, I don’t doubt that we will see them leading a symphony in a historic chapel, or hear their unique instrumentations in the score of the next best film. BCNR can’t die out just yet — my friends and I still have some hope left.