While they’ve had their share of detractors (primarily rock hacks pissed-off that their debut Bring It On should win the Mercury Music Prize before they had been given the inkie seal of approval) I’ve always admired Gomez.
Having tried to repeat the feat with Liquid Skin and the disappointing In Our Gun, the five-piece took a deserved break (with an odds-n-sods collection to keep the fans happy), and Split The Difference is the first we’ve heard from planet Gomez in 18 months. It’s not radically different to the retro melting pot of previous offerings though, and surely the quality control could have been better, considering how long they’ve had to write new material – at least four of the 13 songs here smell like fillers.
The fact that they have three vocalists means that listening to a Gomez record often feels like a compilation, and there is an argument that Ben Ottewell’s throaty rasp is under-used here. His trademark Jack-Daniels-and-40-Major wheeze gives tracks like ‘Me, You And Everybody’ and ‘There It Was’ a timeless quality, although even his delivery can’t save the dirge-like ‘Where Ya Going?’. That said, the album’s most commercial moments (and most likely singles) come when Ian Ball or Tom Gray lend their tonsils to proceedings, on the insistent ‘Silence’, the infectious ‘Nothing Is Wrong’ or the Kings Of Leon-like stomp of ‘Catch Me Up’.
‘We Don’t Know Where We’re Going’ comes across like Radiohead-lite. A distant cousin to ‘2+2=5’, it’s all distorted robotic vocals, eerie effects and pulsing basslines. Much better is the off-beat jazz-like ‘Sweet Virginia’, the impossible-to-dislike stoned drone of ‘Meet Me In The City’ or the lo-fi bluster of ‘Chicken Out’.
Split The Difference has seven or eight songs of real quality, but you do get the feeling that the five-piece are still largely preaching to the converted.