It’s hard to pinpoint when the Kings of Leon stopped enjoying it. They were never the deepest band of rock aughts revival, but they were the ones who bought in completely, and they were like the group from Almost famous and stays as an audition for a Behind the music special. But once they achieved their hard-fought strength in their field, the responsibilities of running a rock band as a major campaign wiped out any remaining freedom and deprivation from their music. Their records grew as the people behind them declined. It’s been 10 years since the last Kings of Leon song anyone wanted for karaoke, and the band is still running under the shadow of their late ’00s mammals.
The group’s eighth record, When you see yourself, a brief look at what a winning Kings of Leon record would look like in 2021. Surprisingly light on toes, the “When You See Yourself, Are You Far Away” opener is bright with pinging polyrhythms. This is the funniest thing the band has heard in years, and while it’s not their usual series, it shows that there may be a way forward in piloting shamelessly from the perkier, unpainted corners of contemporary choice. This band has been old over their years for so long, maybe it’s time to slip young for once.
But When you see yourself that’s not the kind of record. This is the only kind of album that Kings of Leon knows how to do anymore, which is a slight change from the last one, and the one before that. Most importantly, if not just something new about this album, it is the first album in history to be available as an NFT, a cryptographic way to sell art and music online. Don’t forget about the Southern Strokes or the U2 South. They have now devoted most of their career as the Southern postAntics Interpol, a high-sounding band that ceases to work, tries to write songs that rise but are only possible for those who work.
Lending back that unexpected feeling of déjà vu is back WALLS producer Markus Dravs, a disciple of Brian Eno who has invented records for Coldplay and Arcade Fire. As a claim to your Grammy consideration, his work is incomparable – almost in every way like an expensive technical act. But in practice, his production competes with these songs more than he adds to them, associating them as unruly skyscrapers with any lakeside view they may be playing. obstruction. The mix saves the worst of the anger for Caleb Followill, whose voice is always finding new and brutal ways to bury. On “Fairytale,” Followill’s unloving yew is reduced to a red wine stain trying to stand out against a busy carpet.
Followill has never been an easy-to-explain speaker, but the words hears are tucked inside a sad middle-of-life groove. On the cosmically lost “Time in Disguise,” one of many albums cut at the cutting speed of Coldplay’s mid-range album, he can’t shake himself: “Close your eyes and what can you see / Is it a masked person or device? Even worse is the “Supermarket,” where Followill promises to “I’m not going anywhere, if you have the time.” Followill is 39, but from those songs, you’d think he’s doing a workshop on one of Rick Rubin’s end-of-life albums.
Is this what anyone wants to hear from this band? While the early records of Kings of Leons left enough to nitpick – the revitalized sex politics of the 1970s – they had a night out energy that could be contagious if you bought into a unique fantasy idea of generosity. When you see yourselfon the other hand, packages in all weekend carnivals run to the Container Store. It’s hard to imagine how Kings of Leon was heard early on, even wanting to listen to a band like this, let alone play in one. Honestly, their routine repetition doesn’t feel all that intriguing about it, either.
Buy: Rough Trade
(Pitchfork earns a commission from purchases made through affiliate links on our site.)
Keep up with every Saturday with 10 of our best records of the week. Sign up for the 10 to Hear newsletter here.