Review Summary: Tension without release
The history of IDLES is nothing short of a Greek tragedy. After a meteoric rise in 2017 and 2018 with their one-two punch of anthemic punk
Brutalism and
Joy as an Act of Resistance (titles alone go hard), 2020 saw the band’s formula indulge in a renunciation of change with the ultra monotone
Ultra Mono. After rain comes fair weather: if 2021’s
Crawler wasn’t exactly a return to the band’s heyday, at least it matched its introspective direction with the band’s knack for punky hits.
So. Is
TANGK the cementation of the aforementioned return, or is it only the embodiment of a good-bad cyclicity that seems to hit every creative forces who want to make up for their latest statements instead of starting afresh? Well.
TANGK starts like most of its predecessors, with opener “Idea 101” being a slow-burning tune whose pulsing drums drive a rising tension. Said tension is beautifully accompanied by cascading piano loops that sound gorgeous thanks to the collaborative production work of guitarist Mark Bowen, Kenny Beats - who already worked on the band’s previous two albums - and Nigel Godrich, longtime Radiohead producer - you can tell, as the track is taken straight out the
In Rainbows-
King of Limbs catalog.
But then, after that rising tension, nothing happens.
“Idea 101” tells you everything you need to know about
TANGK: it’s an album that contains an anger that never explodes, and a tension that is never released. That’s highly unfortunate, because IDLES is a band that
needs to release the tension they create. Their trademark show opener “Colossus” is the perfect example of such an approach, with its second half breaking down every wall the first half carefully constructed. Here, the opener’s rising tension leads to “Gift Horse”, whose propulsive guitars and drums resonate with the universal themes of freedom, resilience, and love. But it’s too late: “Gift Horse” only releases the tension it itself creates, leaving the preceding song as sadly unfinished as the Sagrada Familia.
Most of that comment applies to the rest of the record: the promises are shinier than the actual delivery (hey that makes me think of that one politician). Lyrically, the message is relatively straightforward, but the speech doesn’t match the message’s power. “Grace” and “A Gospel” both display Joe Talbot’s quite pretty prayers toward his new god - love! -, but their melodies aren’t compelling enough to carry the songs’ textured production. Likewise, the closer “Monolith” is as underwhelming as IDLES can ever get, especially following a straightforward punk (semi-)banger like “Gratitude”.
IDLES’ approach towards more restrained territories works on one specific occasion though: “Roy” is as close as a
classic pop tune as IDLES have ever written - even though they already perfected that specific niche of theirs with
Crawler’s “The Beachland Ballroom”. Apart from that particular track, it’s when the band chooses to ditch sentimentality in favor of pure swagger that they manage to deliver
engaging songs: the aforementioned “Gift Horse” and “Gratitude”, or the dance-punk (& LCD Soundsystem-backed) “Dancer” all choose to celebrate (both lyrically
and musically) communion. The main problem with these tracks is that we’ve already heard this iteration of IDLES done better. Worse: it further proves
TANGK ultimately fails where it’s supposed to innovate. Talbot’s fixation on love matters - rest is bullshit apparently, which is somewhat true but only if you’re in love innit - isn’t met with enough musical power, or even commitment to the chosen aesthetic. IDLES wanted
TANGK to be their
Kid A, but they ended up delivering their
Tranquility Base Hotel Casino.
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