Album Review: An Accident by BiHour
Released in 2014 via Vacant Valley, An Accident is a bold collision of pop sensibilities and rock grit, with splashes of avant-garde experimentation and new wave flair. Hailing from Australia, BiHour—led by the creative duo Sam Upton and Steven Wright—crafted an album that feels like a fever dream of soundscapes and storytelling. It’s not perfect, but it doesn’t try to be. And honestly? That’s what makes it stick.
The opening track, “An Accident,” grabs you right away. With its jagged guitar riffs and pulsating rhythm, it sets the tone for the rest of the record. The lyrics are cryptic yet oddly relatable, as if they’re narrating some half-remembered memory or fleeting emotion. What stays with me most is how the song builds tension without ever fully releasing it—a trick that keeps looping in your head long after it ends. You find yourself hitting replay just to figure out why it feels so unresolved—and maybe that’s the point.
Then there’s “Frontman,” which leans harder into the band's theatrical side. The vocals here are raw, almost unhinged, but in the best way possible. There’s this moment midway through where everything drops out except for a haunting synth line—it’s simple, but damn, does it work. It feels like standing alone under flickering neon lights, questioning your life choices. I can’t tell if it’s genius or just plain weird, but either way, it works. Guest contributions from Jonathon Ainslie and Kate Binning add layers of texture that make the track feel richer than expected.
Tracks like “A Guide On How To Win An Arts Grant” showcase the band’s knack for blending humor with biting commentary. The title itself is a tongue-in-cheek jab at the art world, delivered with sharp wit and clever instrumentation. Meanwhile, “Deliberation” slows things down, offering a moody introspection that contrasts nicely with the album’s more chaotic moments. By the time you reach “A Determination,” the closing track, you realize An Accident isn’t just an album—it’s a journey. A messy, unpredictable one, sure, but aren’t those always the most memorable?
Mastered by Simon Maisch, the production strikes a balance between polished and raw, letting the imperfections shine through. Performances from Upton and Wright (plus their talented guests) bring authenticity to every note. It’s clear these guys weren’t chasing trends—they were making something uniquely theirs.
Reflecting on An Accident, I’m reminded of how rare it is to stumble across music that feels both deeply personal and universally resonant. Sure, it might not appeal to everyone—its quirks and oddities could alienate listeners looking for something more conventional. But maybe that’s the charm. This album doesn’t beg for your attention; it demands it, unapologetically.
And hey, isn’t that what great art should do? Challenge you, confuse you, and leave you thinking about it days later—even if you’re still not entirely sure what it all means.
