Blood Red Shoes

Alex Turner’s mock-apathetic paean to the immortality of good old-fashioned rock and roll at the BRIT Awards provoked its fair share of eye-rolling, but one imagines that Blood Red Shoes were nodding along vigorously. The Brighton pair have long been purveyors of old-school spirit, their brand of punchy scuzz firmly rooted in the garage aesthetic. Still, the more interesting aspects of their fourth record shimmer with the same kind of desert-fi swagger that Arctic Monkeys now call their signature.

Instrumental opener ‘Welcome Home’ is business as usual; living fast, dying young and leaving a good-looking corpse. As the dust settles, Blood Red Shoes begins to flirt with that aforementioned near-psychedelic groove. A four-track run of ‘Everything All At Once’, ‘An Animal’, ‘Grey Smoke’ and ‘Far Away’ erect a wall of smoke, one breached every so often with bright bursts of calculated noise, sweet guitar licks lighting the way. ‘The Perfect Mess’ proves cleaner, ticking the requisite ‘lead single’ boxes while also opening up the second half of an album that tries, but ultimately fails, to juggle the established haze with hook-heavy numbers.

Of these, ‘Stranger’ is the only blow that really lands. Seductive yet coy, it hits all the right notes. By way of immediate contrast, ‘Speech Coma’ is just plain irritating, the sort of shouting-into-the-void that those who worship The Subways regard as high art. ‘Don’t Get Caught’, meanwhile, is mechanical and lifeless. Despite sporting one of the worst titles in recent memory, penultimate track ‘Cigarettes in the Dark’ corrects course with a nice mix of stark vocals and well-produced percussion. Alas, closer ‘Tightwire’ once again resets the tone with a less than impressive finish. Almost a very good record. But not quite...