
The album actually starts off rather positively, with the
creeping guitar riff of “Excuse Me” building to the sound of thudding
drums. Once it lurches into the chorus
however, the lyrics become an insignificant repetitive sing-a-long backed by an
instrumental part that is swamped by its own shallow theatricality. This approach is recycled on the next two
songs “Ban All the Music” and “Wake Up Call”.
The main lyrics that caught my ear in the former were “Ban all the
music, it’s all gone wrong”. It’s either
as inconsequential as every other lyric present, or it’s the kind of parochial
dig that exploits the sentiment found in the demographic that complains that
too much music is being made on laptops and sign petitions to stop Kanye West
from performing at Glastonbury. I think
this is the first time I just hope that a lyric is completely devoid of
insight, so congratulations on acquiring that accolade Nothing But Thieves.
There are certainly moments of actual substantive emotion
here, a perfect example being the personal and heartfelt “If I Get High”, on
which Connor Mason sings “If I get high enough, will I see you again?”, or when
they channel “The Bends” era Radiohead on “Graveyard Whistling”. The danceable bass line on “Hostage” is a
high point, along with the punk energy of “Pain Killer”.
There’s absolutely no
question however, that the album, and quite probably the band, suffer from the
desire to be famous no matter what. The
result is an album streamlined and calculated to the point of meaninglessness. I can’t recommend that anyone listen to this
album.
Charlie McCartney
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