The Brag

The Dears
Degeneration Street
Dangerbird Records/ Albert Music
****

Fans have a tendency to get very strange about The Dears. Following 2003’s terrific No Cities Left, NME touted them as “probably the best new band in the world” – and I once read a review of their live show that declared it “the sonic equivalent of seeing the face of God.” …But to be fair to both reviewers, The Dears are fucking terrific.

Frontman Murray Lightburn has described The Dears’ sound to me as “heavy, thinking man’s rock”, and there’s plenty of that here. But more often than not, that heaviness is thematic, rather than sonic. Most of these songs are grand anthems, but the lyrics are something akin to The National’s tendency to intellectualise the minutiae of grown-up relationships, the pitfalls of married life, and the inevitable torpor and stifling misery that can come from too long in suburbia. So much of this album is quiet desperation – like the stunning, plaintive cry of ‘Lamentation’, or the longing of ‘Galactic Tides’.

But there’s some serious rock on this album, too: from sexy, slinky, opener ‘Omega Dog’ to ‘Blood’, probably the dirtiest song The Dears have ever written. It’s a wonderful mix of the bold and the badass – every time you start to worry that they have been lost to the soundscape, they come crashing back with a biting riff. Indeed, the only real complaint I have is that most of the truly memorable songs are within the first handful, so the back end does drag a little.

If Arcade Fire weren’t so damn precious about everything, they might sound a little something like this. Another top effort from one of the most under-appreciated acts around.

Hugh Robertson