|1. Wanna Be That Way|
|2. Wake In The City|
|4. Modern Feeling|
|5. I'm With Stupid|
|7. Waste Ground|
|8. Hows The World Gonna Take You Now|
|11. Day Draws Thin|
With this follow-up they appear to have lost some of the edgy bile of the first album to be replaced with a more accessible sonic landscape, that still seethes and surges with fire and vitriol. Since that debut there have been line-up changes within, as the 'Colts now operate as a two girl/two boy line-up. Produced by Alex Newport (At The Drive-In, Icarus Line<, Locust) their sound teeters on the verge of collapse, retaining a raw live buzz that is laden with hooks. Talking of which...Tracy Bellaries, provides surging bass as a driving 'lead' instrument - the same way Peter Hook's bass playing rose above mere rhythm section backing - lead vocalist Paul Resende, shows a marked fondness of Mark E. Smith vocal stylings, Dominic Young drums like a man possessed by a spirit of the wired, clipped economy of (New Order's) Stephen Morris and through Claire Ingram's Riot Grrl vocals and lead guitar duties, they have a 'Kim' (Deal or Gordon) indie chick goddess in waiting. They are quite a musical prospect.
The 'Colts come busting out the stable (sorry) with opener 'Wanna Be That Way'the glorious b****** offspring of indie cool and (s)punked-up swagger set to the sounds of prime era Sonic Youth, or The Stooges< electro-surging for uncertain modern times. Like the much-underrated Experimental Pop Band, these are the new cool kids of grindcore deathrock, with a solid gold indie record collection.
Not one of these twelve tunes outstays its welcome, and though they may not be chin-strokingly deep, they are fevered thrusts of urgent exclamation. There's sleazy electro disco of 'Modern Feeling' complete with sneering Riot grrl vocal back-up to the frantic blast of dumb shouty 'I'm With Stupid' and 'Automatic' blasts along on a killer Stoogeified stop-start head-banging riff. Veering away from the bloody-nosed guitar rifferamas, they hit the spot in different ways, as on the experimental electro throb of 'Motorway', which comes on like a cute female-fronted Suicide, to sound more than convincing. Even when the tempo drops as on 'How's the World Gonna Take You Now' they still brood along magnificently in a manner that suggests life beyond The Fall/Sonic Youth comparisons that they are lumbered with now.
The only criticism to this undoubted blast-furnace classic, is that the homage to their obvious heroes can become a bit predictable, making it feel like a transitional album between the effluents of their influences and striding out fully-formed in their own definitive sound. All too often the downfall is Paul Resende's Mark E. Smith yelping which can muddy a blazing tune with 'hackneyed-uh, impropriety-uh' (as M.E. Smith would('nt) say). But with every nod of recognition, there's a shake of the head towards a new unchartered direction that is defiantly Ikara Colt's. When they reach that point it will be a truly remarkable album instead of just a great one. One to watch for the future but one to get down and dirty with right now.
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