11:58am Friday 26th September 2008
By Nick Churchill
Given the fuss made of the Followills' fourth album you'd think their pa/uncle had conjured the Lord Jesus himself. Though the record has moments that echo the anxiety and tension of earlier releases (particularly the first two albums) there are many more that suggest far more knowing and sober forces are at work.
For all their staccato guitars and vocal yelps, the sharpest edge on most of the album is a sheepish nod to U2's guitar man as the Kings reach for stadium-filling superstardom at they expense of mosh pit fever.
It's a fair trade - after all a band's gotta grow - but the scratchy drawl of tracks like Sex On Fire, Crawl and Cold Desert will resonate more easily with older fans than the unit-shifting radio rock of Manhattan and Revelry.
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