How some people change. When Leicester indie-rockers Young Knives first came to the public's attention, they were somewhat smart. Preppy. Ties, slacks and tweed were not uncommon. A meaner person might say they were odd-balls. Whatever, the starched collars-and-slicked-hair-office-worker look they presented around the time of 2006's debut album 'Voices of Animals and Men' is now out the window, as is the sound they embraced on their four previous studio albums. Taking a look at brothers Thomas (or his stage alias "House of Lords") and Henry Dartnall these days requires the obligatory double-glance. With his long, grungey hair and beard, looking like the survivor of a particularly rough nuclear apocalypse. He and his brother wear the expressions of men who have seen things. Things no man should see.
Perhaps this is what, in part, influenced 'Barbarians', the group's fifth album, and their first after a hiatus of four years. Gone are the spiky, art-pop nuggets such as 'The Decision', throbbing high-energy rockers such as 'She's Attracted To' and 'Terra Firma' and the lush orchestral palette of 'Turn Tail' - all top class tracks from their past. This is not to say they've nose-dived into a creative rut; far from it. It seems, at least for the band, that the bad things in life and the darker side of human nature can be just as inspiring as the good. As Henry puts it: "How can we turn the worst aspects of humanity into something really fucking entertaining?" Heavily influenced by a 2002 book by philosopher John Gray on the fact that no matter what scientific or societal advances are made, humans are no less barbaric in the 21st Century as they were in caveman times, this got the brothers thinking. With the dilemma of how, if mankind is irredeemably F.U.C.K.E.D., we possibly live with this realisation, the recording of 'Barbarians' was set in motion.
2019's lead single 'Red Cherries' brought us a sound unlike anything else in the Knives canon to date - jarring spasms of looped screams, off-kilter lyrics akin to an interrogation ("How many of them were there? What were their names?") over skittering, lurching drums and you have a recipe for what could be a soundtrack to a horror movie. It was a brave move (and one unlikely to get used on say, an advert for constipation relief or Tizer), and their new sound will not be for everyone. But it never has been. Young Knives have ploughed their own furrow for many years, and those who have come along for the ride are in for a polarising debate - is there a place for jazz drumming in their repertoire? Does Henry's new hair-do suit him? Is this new sound perhaps "a bit much"?
But it's ironic that, with the subject matter of the LP being mankind's inability to change for the better, that the group HAVE changed for the better, if only in being open to new ideas and concepts. Thankfully, as evidenced on this record, the sound has also evolved. While there are no free-form, semi-improvised, twenty-minute prog jams, they've harnessed an entire new way of writing as if they're old hands at it.
Such a progression began with the band moving away from the traditional record label model of recording and promotion, with their last full album (2013's 'Sick Octave') released via Gadzook, their own label - as is this one. Such a move enabled the band to work free of pressures for hit singles and mass appeal, and that is very much reflected on 'Barbarians'. Some may argue that releasing an album independently is much akin to people self-publishing a novel; a way around having a publisher or label recognising the merit of their work and releasing it regardless. But that's missing the point - the simple fact is: this album would more than likely not exist if it was released through the normal channels, and at the very least, we should applaud a band willing to take a gamble.
'Holy Name '68' - a creepy, unsettling interlude mid-way through the LP - features what sounds like a crackly "found" recording of people singing some prayer or hymn, only enforcing the notion that Young Knives have gone full-on horror. While the album is not conceptual, the pervading sense of darkness is brought home by the unnerving chords, fragments of speech and a more electronic vibe than they have used previously. 'Jenny Haniver', with unsettling lyrics about a girl who may or may not be an artificial creation, only adds to the creepiness. "Boy meets girl, boy falls in love with girl, boy and girl marry" this ain't.
It's a delicate balancing act, being a band five albums in, having garnered praise, acclaim and accruing a devoted fan-base over the last fifteen years or so. Do they continue churning out what people like, or shout "bollocks to it" and head off into uncharted territory? While it may be a risky move for some, on the strength of 'Barbarians', Young Knives show that the rewards can most certainly be reaped if "bollocks" is indeed screamed loudly enough.
('Barbarians' is released on 4th September via Gadzook)
Review by Pete T Muscutt