Review Summary: An empty scream...
Imagine biting into a piece of apparently delicious crispy bacon. It looks tasty on appearance but when the pork based miracle enters your mouth you find it tastes a little like bacon, but is chewy, there’s too much fat, and it just doesn’t satisfy. Before all the vegetarians switch off there is an explanation to this meaty analogy. Tribes make music that is consistent in its middle of the road, lukewarm indie rock approach. Its songs have the structure and elements of BIG indie tunes, yet they fall a little flat – that strip of bacon appeared like it should have been delicious, but upon closer inspection, it failed to deliver.
A year ago the Camden gang released their fun (if a little lacking in substance) debut, Baby, and it featured a handful of genuinely decent indie rock gems. They had big sing-along choruses, glam-tinged riffs, and subject matters that included ancient Greek lesbians, and although it never blew one’s mind the lads did provide a catchy, fun set of tunes if nothing else. Although Tribes functioned by purloining rock n roll’s past they succeeded to an extent because they didn’t overcomplicate anything, and when Johnny Lloyd bawled “We were children in the mid-nineties” for a moment you could believe he cared about what he was signing. On sophomore effort, Wish to Scream, the same cannot be said, however.
Perhaps staying true to the promise to churn out a record every 12 months despite massive touring commitments is the reason why the tracks on Wish fail to impress, but whatever the case something just didn’t gel during the LA recording sessions. There is a distinct lack of passion or ideas here, and no move to a sunny locale or inclusion of tepid gospel choir backing can mask the apparent fact that Johnny and the boys appear to have lost their previously small but effective kick. You see, catchy was their best asset, and the mid tempo flounderings here don't hook you in like Tribes music should, nor do they inspire like they group attempt to, with overblown, uninspired choir backings and cluttered, riff-lacking arrangements. Last time around we had big riffs, shouty choruses, and the occasional inspired lyric, such as the feeling brought on by the death of a friend in “Corner of an English Field”. This time however, we have none of the above for the most part.
“Dancehall” opens things solidly – its piano accompaniment and humming guitars prove to be one of the more enjoyable moments. Lloyd’s vocals also sound a little livelier than on most cuts, even if he sighs “right” at the start. Yet the lyrics remain a little hammy “you’re a gypsy queen… a fast car… a movie star”, which prevents the track from reaching its full potential. “Wrapped Up in a Carpet” is a shaky, fun little number. An organ backs Lloyd’s slightly strangled but flowing vocals, before tiny flashes of Americana tinged guitar flutter in after the chorus. The best bit is the Bowie-esque sax near the end, and although, once again, the lyrics really fail to strike even if they are more catchy than on most of the record, it’s hooky enough to spin a few times. The only other track that succeeds is “How the Other Half Live”, with its swaggering guitars and big catchy chorus, it provides the most convincing track because it has a little grit to it, and remembers to do what Tribes do best. The rest sadly float into a stream of forgettable, mid-tempo soft rock, because it forgets, unlike “How the Other Half Live”, what the purpose of the band is.
It’s hard to predict the future of the band at this point, because on the one hand they proved they had some skill in making big, catchy indie tunes on their debut, but even that was riddled with a few issues. This second record really needed to see the lads become a little more unique whilst ideally becoming even more bombastic, hooky and fun. Wish to Scream fails to address such issues, and loses track of what made Tribes somewhat attractive in the first place. None of it is intrinsically bad, per se, but very little of it fails to touch ground either. People like to turn their nose up at bands like this, but I for one enjoyed the simple blaze of their debut, they weren’t going rewrite the rulebook of rock n roll but they didn’t need to. So with that, I simply hope the Camden crew will stop fannying around in LA studios with choirs, get back to their roots and learn how to scream again - preferably about something that matters this time though, Mr Lloyd.
