It's hard to know where to begin with
Clap Your Hands Say Yeah's third album. The conventional narrative up
until now reads that the band sprung out of internet fame, a DIY
aesthetic almost synonymous with their debut- and seemingly everyone
was an overnight fan. The jangly, retro-infused, charming and
defiant songs of their eponymous start united the entire indie scene
in appraisal, much in the same way a Tumblr-borne artist like The
Weeknd aims for now. But in 2005, weren't we all that bit more naïve?
The band seemingly second-guessed the audience backlash with their
follow up record, the 'difficult second album' monicker being more
appropriate of an audience expectation than the band's composition.
Some Loud Thunder was to some, unlistenable- but this reviewer found
it to be a rewarding album of hidden depths and studio trickery.
Yeah, that bass was consistently fuzzing, the drums were awkwardly
panned and as far as I can tell, the vinyl and CD have different
versions of the title track- but can't some mistakes be deliberate?
That it came wrapped in so many interviews, vocalist Alex Ounsworth
telling half-believable yarns that he never listened to music
produced after 1980, that vinyl was his mantra- the album might have
made you work for it, infinitely more than their debut (a record
which dared you not to like it)- but it was overwhelmingly composed,
its confusing studio mix clearly deliberate.
If Some Loud Thunder led some of their
fanbase up the garden path, then Hysterical could be considered an
even more disturbing WTF moment. From the moment it starts spinning,
you are made aware of something different here. Namely, it sounds
fantastic. Not in a compelling, interesting, sucks you in and can't
get it out of your head way, but rather in studio sound. Everything
is well mixed, well recorded- this is the sound of the professional
recording industry, of money and 'maximising' technique behind each
note- it could be a Kings of Leon record for chrissakes. This is all
down to the hiring of St Vincent producer John Congleton- but frankly
it comes across in an instant like a disavowal of everything the band
have stood for. So their first record was marked by whimsey and
charm, and the second was criticised for being too esoteric and
bloody minded- but to my mind, the manner in which to respond to such
criticisms is not by becoming the most arena-rock sounding,
mainstream version of yourselves that you can be. It's like they're
negating all that made them unique in the first place, and in doing
so- you're left wondering whether you only ever liked them for their
quirkiness, or whether the songs held true.
Fortunately, I firmly believe in the
latter. I only have to remember old numbers like 'Tidal Wave of Young
Blood' and 'Yankee Go Home' and I'm smiling giddily. Even the
stronger moments from this record, like 'Ketamine and Ecstasy' or
'The Witness' Dull Surprise' find themselves drowned out in a sea of
mediocrity. It's as if the album's sonic mastery undoes the
possibility of anything truly becoming memorable here. It all bleeds
together, and the band sound as if they're going through the motions.
And I realise that it's unfair to review an album by comparing it to
previous works, that an album should be reviewed on its own strengths
and weaknesses- but Hysterical sounds so 'post' its preceding works,
so conscious of the (unfair) criticisms that followed Some Loud
Thunder, that it rarely has opportunity to exist in its own space.
For me, the biggest question is why we
ended up here. Clap Your Hands took a five year hiatus, a
soul-searching mission, and this album was preceded with the
inevitable PR that the band had discovered themselves, found their
sound, etc. But if this is the sound of the band being true to
themselves, then the album makes it abundantly clear what a dull and
disappointing prospect that is.
4/10
First published in the405
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