Review Summary: Remember those indie kids with the funny band name? They grew up.
The Maccabees’ second album marks a significant change in the group’s sound; it’s darker, more mature and much more carefully constructed. ‘Colour It In’ received a lot of bad press, with a number of critics dismissing it as ‘lightweight’ and ‘cutesy’. Personally, I have never subscribed to this view. To me, the band’s debut sounded like five guys enjoying playing their music, and enjoying living their lives, and this was refreshing in the modern angst-filled world of indie rock. But someone told them, or they decided, they had to change, and so we get ‘Wall Of Arms’.
The album begins with a song which slots effortlessly into The Maccabees’ best three songs, the huge lead single, ‘Love You Better’. It’s as if the band is easing us into their new sound, as this song retains a certain amount of the frantic guitar work of ‘Colour It In’, as well as an emotion-riddled chorus which Orlando Weeks produces in what can only be described as an impersonation of Win Butler trying ever so hard not to be an impersonation of Win Butler. Arcade Fire comparisons notwithstanding (and the album was produced by Markus Dravs of ‘Neon Bible’ fame), this is a good song, a powerful single, and a strong opening to a sophomore album.
As the album gets underway, the changes are clear for all to see. The Maccabees, golden boys of Britpop, have grown up. And they know it, too; the lyrical dexterity which used to create such playfulness in their music remains, but like the drums, which are now used as part of the song rather than apparently being produced by the random thrashings of an accidentally brilliant madman, it has been turned to more serious purposes. Weeks is gently insistent as he declares ‘isn’t it bizarre, the adults that we are, still playing follow the leader’, somewhat unsubtly making the point that The Maccabees felt that they needed to grow up a bit. This is even more in evidence during ‘No Kind Words’, a White Lies-esque epic, its lyrics containing more echoes than Brunel’s Sounding Arch. And despite Weeks’ fears that critics will have ‘no kind words to say’, I like it. The song, deliberately placed right in the middle of the record, manages to be consciously epic without falling into the trap made popular by some of the Editors’ more dodgy tracks of descending into the boring.
This is key to ‘Wall Of Arms’. Despite the contrast with the high-energy, borderline-insane antics of ‘Colour It In’, the album never feels tired, even if the band don’t sound like they’re having as much of a jolly old time as they used to. Jibes at Weeks’ occasionally overbearing melancholy and Arcade Fire pretensions aside, his vocals are wonderfully versatile and imbued with such powerful emotion that one cannot help but listen to what he’s saying, especially now that it’s about ‘a poor substitute for a soul’ rather than Latchmere leisure centre’s new wave machine. The band has matured musically as well, introducing more range to their tempo and energy, helping to set different moods, and making whatever speed they choose to play at more effective.
This album is about The Maccabees maturing as a band, and in many ways the transition to here from ‘Colour It In’ is in itself a strong message about growing up. Yes, we (or at least I) enjoyed the adolescent messing around of their debut album, but it couldn’t go on forever. This new album was both what The Maccabees needed, and also what their fans needed. And anyway, there’s always The Subways.
