Return To Cookie Mountain

I've always been aware of TV On The Radio but, shamefully, have never listened to an album of theirs in earnest until this one, and it's a revelation. I know we're only halfway through 2006, but I was starting to think Ten Silver Drops by Secret Machines could not be beaten in the intelligent, inventive US rock stakes. Well, Return To Cookie Mountain is giving it a run for its money. This album is so rhythmically interesting as much as anything else; haunting, rocky, soulful in a way that comes close to the Afghan Whigs, which is a high compliment, and I also hear shades of the Psychedelic Furs too, which you don't often say, and plenty of early solo Peter Gabriel. Really well worth a listen if you prefer your rock music grown-up, spooky and questioning.

TV on the Radio gave some serious reinvention to indie rock, with their debut "Desperate Youth Blood Thirsty Babes." Then they sort of dropped off for awhile, apparently to tinker with their future sound.

Well, "Return to Cookie Mountain" is an evolution of what they've done before -- the art-rock sound, the grimy electro, and the rough edges that don't need polishing.This isn't quite "there" enough to be their masterpiece, but TV on the Radio is definitely sounding wonderfully mature.

It starts off with the year's best intro -- drum beats, clashes, and an offbeat horn symphony that cuts itself off, before repeating again. As the jagged electronic beats come on, Tunde Adepimbe begins to croon, "I was a lover/before this war... I'm locked in my bedroom/so send back the clowns..." It's a bittersweet song with a warm, rich feeling.

The closest thing they have to typical rock is the heart-pounding "Wolf Like Me," with its howled bridges and eerie feeling, and the expansive, tinkling, explosive "Playhouses." There's also the rustling, stomping art-rock of "Let the Devil In," the swirling electro-rock, the soul-rock, and the epic bass-rock of the finale "Wash the Day Away."

Don't expect TV on the Radio to really rock out in "Return to Cookie Mountain," since they got recognition for their equally dense debut. The songs that follow are too grandiose, too looped, and too dense to be toe-tappers. The only real flaw is their tendency to sometimes neglect music in place of atmosphere -- although even their failures are fascinating.

And that atmosphere is of a dangerous, beautiful place -- campfires, tribal dances, wild animals and flying over mountains. The repetitive drums, bass and more typical instruments are loaded down with flutes, samples, electronic beats, mellotron, cymbals. It's all tangled into a series of loosely-strung, hypnotic melodies that seem to swirl around on themselves.

But the most hypnotic instrument is the vocals. Adepimbe can be deep and soulful, desperate howls, or higher and soaring; either way, he hasn't got the typical disinterested rock voice. And the jumbled, colourful lyrics are hard to make out at times, and eventually they simple become another repetitive pattern in the music.

TV on the Radio have one-upped themselves with "Return to Cookie Mountain," and yet there's a feeling of unfulfilled promise, hinting that they'll get even better as time goes on.

TV on the Radio aren't as an immediate band to get into as some reviews might have you believe. I loved their first EP Young Liars but found their debut LP 'Desperate Youth Blood Thirsty Babes' wearyingly oppressive and turgid and two-starred it in an unpopular Amazon review. I have given Return to Cookie Mountain more time, and whereas some of the heavy atmospherics can veer towards pretentious overload, there is more hookiness and focus to this recording. David Bowie is an obvious influence (in particular his underrated Outside) - and the great man himself appears on the excellent 'Province' - but it is fair to say that they have developed a distinctive sound of their own: the grimy, churning guitars, the soulful barbershop harmonies, the cavernous production.

The singular opener 'I Was A Lover', one of the album's best tracks, is also one of the hardest to describe, with its cut and paste aesthetic and falsetto vocal hook. Hours is moody and urban with a hint of Peter Gabriel, but gently swells into alt-rock territory. 'Playhouses' is all heavy distortion and fast-drumming that doesn't hold together as well, while 'Wolf Like Me' is the closest this album has to an anthem, with its melodic refrain of 'Howling... Forever' gradually emerging out of the fog of frenetic guitars. 'A Method' takes their penchant of barbershop harmonising to its most successful extreme while the swashbuckling, raucous 'Let the Devil In' displays the influence of the Pixies and Tom Waits. Dirtywhirl has more crossover appeal while the goth-tinged and darkly propulsive 'Blues From Down Here' could be The Sisters of Mercy. The atmospheric 'Tonight' bears a (probably unwitting) resemblance to prototype shoegazers A.R. Kane, for whom the term Oceanic was coined. The dissapointing closer 'Wash the Day', on the other hand, tries to throw everything into the mix for a climatic finale but is a bit of a mess. Lots to enjoy though, and a step in the right direction.