English indie outfit Wild Beasts turn an exceedingly amplified corner in their fifth full-length release as a conceptual project that boasts both a sonic and stylistic newfound flair. It’s an avenue of uncharted territory that nurtures slightly more of an accepting sound, the group’s unconventional charm now merely a former feature. “Boy King” from the onset thus presents itself as an exception to the theatrical norm amidst the four-piece’s foregoing body of work
Fans well acquainted with the quartet’s decadently bizarre brand will instantly notice the demise of this characteristic flamboyancy as it trades roles with over-driven basslines and the not-so-ironic display of male bravado. The group’s distinguishing use of clear guitar tones in lush repetitive patterns is thus substituted for dance-pop rhythms dressed in leather – their resistance of quick compartmentalisation now an easier target of description.
A bolder edge is consequently fostered through an augmented degree of electronica that sonically positions the album on a similar wavelength as its subject matter. It’s lyrical content is socially reflective as it locates exaggerated masculinity in an attempt to critique society’s Fat Cats and alike, while also highlighting Adonis-inspired social expectations men are often pressured to fulfil. The subject in question is met bang-on, the line “Now I’m all fucked up and I can’t stand up so I better suck it up like a tough guy would” in ‘Tough Guy’ exemplary of this notion.
‘Get My Bang’ offers explosive catchy blows, its emphasis on synthy bass reminiscent of an older era alongside Hayden Thorpe’s markedly distinct vocals. Each melodic line is phrased rather seductively, Tom Fleming’s rich baritone a welcome addition to its already enticing appeal. It’s a move the group themselves have disclosed as intentional, yet the combination of electro-rock and sensuality above intricacy seems both admirable and misleading. To call it an archetypal Wild Beasts record would be an inaccurate comparison, but referring to it as anything else would prove defective too.
‘Dreamliner’ serves as the album’s only anomaly, Thorpe’s solemn falsetto and accompanying slow piano more attuned to the outfit’s preceding oeuvre than its current electronic slot. ‘Celestial Creatures’ manages to produce a fairly similar effect, albeit within said slot, through its quick repetitive melodic progressions. The disavowal therefore isn’t as shattering as one might expect when considering the album’s total cultivation of sound, which remains unique to the group alone.
The record’s polarising arrangement embarks on a swift departure away from Wild Beasts’ acclaimed genre fluidity to test the scope of the group’s musical capabilities in an equally polarising manner. It liberates them from their pigeonholed standing as a separate provocative venture that may perhaps require a few scheduled listens before one eventually warms up to its grittier groove-driven textures.
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Listen to “Boy Child” below on Deezer.
