Having heard one other record by Kasabian, this new release didn’t surprise me all that much. They’re Kasabian—they’ve got their sound, and they’re sticking to it. They haven’t quite become boring to me yet, but this band’s sound has got to have an expiration date. Perhaps that date has already passed for some; these guys have been around since the early ’00s. Listening to two records by this band is manageable, but I just don’t think that they’re interesting enough to warrant long-term, discography-memorizing fans.
Their music is interesting enough at first—there isn’t too much bass-heavy indie rock out there, and Tom Meighan’s heavy accent still maintains its charm for this American listener. The 30-second handclap breakdowns are catchy, and the aura created is still that of a street in Chelsea after dark.
So yeah, for now, I remain a fan of Kasabian. What worries me is that this album sounds exactly like everything else that I’ve heard by them. I know that bands often stay within walking distance of a certain sound, but the most successful ones (in my book) mix it up every now and then. Once again, I point to none other than the king of bands, Los Campesinos!. Sure, I love their old vomiting-rainbows-and-puppies sound, but really, could one take 4 albums strictly of that much sweetness? Recently, they’ve toned things down and gone with a darker aesthetic, and it has paid off beautifully. This Kasabian rut could ultimately lead to their downfall. But don’t get me wrong, if they ever play a show in town, I’ll be there.
Swole Ear 