In trying to learn more about eccentric musician Tommy Trull, I came across his personal website’s artist description tagline, which reads: “Genre-hopping musician and writer blending raw vulnerability with sharp wit. Or so my mom says.” It may be a small detail, but that full stop between the blurb and the caveat of it being a pseudo-testimony provided by his mother is the form of dry, sardonic humor that bleeds into his newest album, Break the Believer.
Break the Believer is a sonic rollercoaster that absolutely refuses to stay within the boundaries of any genre you’ve ever heard of, and pulls it off more often than it should. With sharp lyrics, raw vulnerability, and a dash (meaning almost a lot) of sonic experimentation that may or may not make you stop and wonder if you’ve just stumbled into an alternate universe where genre doesn’t exist and this is simply a musical landscape that is constantly shattering beneath your feet, making you feel as if you’re listening to someone who’s always changing, never quite content to rest on a particular sound for too long as Tommy Trull has gone out of his way to communicate honest emotions through a maximum of at least seven different styles of music all at once.
Despite its admittedly homespun quality, you can tell that all of this was lovingly pulled in own his home studio with a personality-ridden mix of cheap instruments and expensive synths with the vision board of the 15 tracks here featuring elements of indie folk, surf rock, minivan rock, prog rock, ambient soundscapes and experimental electronica to name a fraction of a few of the genres this thing takes a stab in, tinkered away like a workshop machination that looks fragile and yet is highly functional. I mean this in the best of compliments, but this album sounds like a contraption that Mr. Bean would have made in the animated series.
Break the Believer isn’t an album for passive listening; it involves you into its method of madness. Every song feels like it’s carrying the weight of someone grappling with their personal belief system. At its core, this album is about the mess of modern life—disillusionment, fading faith, and the tiny ember of hope that refuses to die. It’s like a deep dive into the human condition, but with a very quirky soundtrack to the whole affair for the fun of it.
Tommy Trull channels the poetic intimacy of Leonard Cohen and the bold, shape-shifting energy of David Bowie. One moment you’re getting an alternate dimension cut of The 1975’s “I Like It When You Sleep For You Are So Beautiful Yet So Unaware Of It Lyrics” on standout track ‘Breath Control’ with its intimacy, and on the other side of the spectrum, you’re hit with a hijinx anthem that feels like a gag show crisis playing out in real-time set to the lyric “the Santa’s helpers’ been giving out handjobs to seniors” on ‘Franklin Blvd Believers’.
If you’re looking for an album that’s not just fun, but actively challenges your expectations of what an album can do, Break the Believer is absolutely worth your time. If you want your music to mean something even if the background music can give the illusion to the contrary at points just for the challenge, then Break the Believer is definitely worth your time. It’s bold, it’s experimental, it’s frankly scattershot and if you’re the type of person who wants your music to push you, then Tommy Trull has you covered.
This album is called Break the Believer, and much like the clown on the album cover, emphasis on the first thing you see will set the tone. This album might break you and you would like it for the audacity, if anything.
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About the Author
A tenured media critic known working as a ghost writer, freelance critic for publications in the US and former lead writer of Atop The Treehouse. Reviews music, film and TV shows for media aggregators.
