(Wichita)

Banging beats, but no tunes to speak of

What happened to Bloc Party? Just three years ago, the young British band’s debut mixed indie rock moping with dance floor dynamics in a way that made the combination sound easy and effortless – that they could get from there to here in the space of just two albums is more than a little surprisng. Everything about Intimacy sounds forced  – it’s the audio equivalent of a Booker Prize-winning novel, something earnest and well-meaning that might look nice on your shelf, but you’ll never, ever get through it from start to finish – and the band themselves sound unhappy. Screechy, clattering opening tracks Ares and Mercury set the tone – mid-nineties Chemical Brothers with the vocals gone all wonky and all the fun all sucked out.  Next comes Halo – a tightly-wound punk track, it’s distinctive only in that it’s the closest thing to an actual living, breathing song on the album. Biko is tinkly and pretty, but sounds like an update of Silent Alarm track Blue Light; Talons, likewise, sounds like an unconvincing remake of the between-albums single Flux (which was so ridiculously good, perhaps it set up unrealistic expectations for what Bloc Party could actually do with a toy box full of electronic instruments). The rest is covered in expensive-sounding production, but lacks any real direction or excitement. Maybe you’ve already heard and liked Intimacy – if so, well, sorry that I’ve just shit all over it – but as a genuine Bloc Party fan, I can’t help but think that the boys are capable of a lot better than this.

**½

ALASDAIR DUNCAN

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