If there exists even an ounce of hope that indie rock is indeed not dead, it lies within the hearts and hands of Los Campesinos!. Over the last five years, the band has proven to be one of the hardest working in the game, churning out five albums overflowing with snarky wit, grim realism, and guitar-driven songs. Now, releasing five records in five years is an impressive feat. But that four of those records are great, well, that’s outrageous.
No Blues, LC!’s latest grapple with death and all things football, is one of the great ones. The album finds the crew continuing to refine their once clustered sound, and this time they’ve finally hit their mark in crafting a cohesive, focused effort. Musically, No Blues picks up right where Hello Sadness left off. Both records are filled to the brim with crisp, four-minute builds of synths and sticks aided by driving guitars, an always-welcome horn section, and Gareth’s forever-deepening register.
Yet Gareth penned the lyrics to Hello Sadness amidst an unexpected break-up. And even for a band whose fans expect to shout along to songs about death and sad-sackedness, the words felt hard to swallow; at times they were even embarrassing. No Blues isn’t completely stripped of this glumness (the album ends with Gareth plummeting into a river and his biggest concern is that no one watched him do it), but it is a more balanced — and therefore more relatable — listen.
And what a listen No Blues is. This is honestly the kind of record where there are going to be seven or eight songs volleying for your No. 1 spot every time you give it a spin. Whether it’s the first single, “What Death Leaves Behind,” the pleading “As Lucerne/The Low,” or even the ballad (an area LC! has failed to deliver on with every album until now) “Glue Me,” nearly every track matches the quality of the one that proceeded it.
Which isn’t to say there aren’t standout moments. “Avocado, Baby” contains arguably the record’s greatest line: “A heart of stone / rind so tough it’s crazy / that’s why they call me the avocado, baby”. Album closer “Selling Rope (Swan Dive to Estuary)” is a six-minute march of constant kick that eschews traditional song structure and is unlike anything LC! has ever done. And again, the list could go on. No Blues is ridiculous in the amount of goodness it manages to pack into a mere 40 minutes of music.
In the past Los Campesinos! records were compact, but in a more chaotic sense. A lot of the time it felt like the band was making noise for the sake of making some riotous noise. No Blues, however, finds a matured LC! crew stressing the importance of each individual part only adding to the complex, dense whole. And the result is a consistent front-to-back record that not only warrants but rewards repeat listens. No blues, indeed.
No Blues