Sonically, their most substantial departure is Yannis’ final bounding over his previous reluctance to hold a note for more than a split-second, as he now croons with the hesitant, yet triumphant belief of Robin Pecknold and the vocal echoes of Electric Bloom have all but evaporated. Opener Blue Blood sounds like a mobile dangling over a cot filled with Pecknold and his Fleet Foxes, before exploding in a penetrating, blood-boiling chorus that devours lingering reservations about whether fixing something that just weren’t broken were a reasoned election. Riffs take centre stage in a cacophonic finale, and the tone is well and truly set: lace up those pumps and belt up those half-mast linens, and as Enter Shikari once said, “Anything Can Happen In The Next Half Hour.” Not that you’d then expect rejuvenated and now-wild’n’woolly guitarist Jimmy Smith to unleash his most blistering riff to date on Miami, a kaleidoscopic Talking Heads-esque disco throwback stomp as Yannis’ coy and wily vocals wisp about like a wicker basket devouring its contents. What with everyone from Eddy Grant to Joe Satriani attempting to grab a slice of the bountiful pies of Albarn and Martin respectively these days, it’s rather well documented how painstakingly ostentatiously This Orient could have been penned by Kele and featured amidst the howling Telecasters of early Bloc Party. Yet comparisons aside, its monotonous drudgery ought ask more forcefully quite why it was ever included on such a radical departure from their now unfortunately rather firm roots as darlings of NME Indie Light... Back to the positives however, and the title track is !!! caught in a frenzied spot of rough and tumble on a bedsit pricked with Throbbing Gristle, Spanish Sahara is the bone-chilling neo-realist Foals contained within early second LP demos Gold Gold Gold and A Future Dub that could run off with the deeds to your Knightsbridge penthouse and you’d almost forgive them and Black Gold unites jittering post-punk guitars with rasping guttural yelps that writhe like wasps locked in the hazily sweet honey of The Bees’ Sunshine Hit Me. Alabaster is probably as close as Yannis will dare sail to the rocking seas of lullabies, or at least for a couple of minutes before brutally ravaged tom-toms learn of the pint-sized Greek’s deeply embedded rage, whilst closer 2 Trees sounds like Gorillaz’ Empire Ants on a comedown from the hedonistic hallucinations contained within the likes of Spanish Sahara and After Glow. Whilst Foals presumably still don’t sound to us like they may in Yannis’ wandering mind and the instrumental previews and loop demos that have seeped out over the past year aren’t entirely representative of Total Life Forever, it’s a merited reinvention. Not on a Prince scale, but quite thrilling nonetheless. Just don’t expect them to sit on this style forever...
