The Maccabees ‘Given To The Wild’

After the critical acclaim of their sophomore record ‘Wall Of Arms’, The Maccabees return with third album ‘Given To The Wild’ – released next Monday (9th January) via Fiction Records. Guitarist Felix White has already been quoted as saying that the record is a “giant leap forward”, but with the mounting expectation that comes with being a “serious” rock band, have the Brighton five-piece crumbled under the pressure? James West gives their forthcoming release a spin to find out…

‘Given To The Wild (Intro)’
The title track kicks off in understated fashion with dreamlike Cocteau Twins atmospherics and Orlando Weeks’ gentle coo of ‘Given To The Wild’. It’s a subtle, ethereal introduction that delicately merges into the opener proper.

‘Child’
The slow-burning ‘Child’ is established by intricate fretwork drenched in lush reverb,  which echoes Bombay Bicycle Club’s ‘How Can You Swallow So Much Sleep’, but gradually evolves into a brass-laden monster with an epic crescendo in the same vein as Arcade Fire’s ‘Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)’. It’s almost identical in structure to 2009’s ‘Love You Better’ – with a stadium-bound refrain of “Now it’s so vivid” destined to be cried out in boggy fields all summer.

‘Feel To Follow’
Starting with Orlando’s quivering, Justin Vernon-aping falsetto over skittery drums, ‘Feel…’ comes to life with a fidgety lick over some ‘X&Y’-esque piano. As with ‘Child’, it starts small and finishes massive – a floor tom roll giving way to an infectious and euphoric wailing guitar line.

‘Ayla’
Arpeggiated piano introduces ‘Ayla’, which is ‘Seventeen Hands’’ bigger, bolder, wiser brother. The reflective lyrics over huge chord blasts show off the more mature Maccabees at their most direct, with the frenetic ending paving the way for…

‘Glimmer’
…the more downbeat affair of ‘Glimmer’, which (somewhat unsurprisingly) features a pretty, glistening Edge-indebted guitar hook that would be right at home on sophomore effort ‘Wall Of Arms’. The inventive tricky interplay of the middle-eight all goes a bit Sigur Rós, before fading in the same whimsical, euphoric way as ‘Bag Of Bones’ did on their previous offering. It flows, almost, idyllically into…

‘Forever I’ve Known’
…the instantly striking ‘Forever…’, which sees the band mimicking the dark forebodings of Echo & The Bunnymen’s ‘The Killing Moon’. This is truly a reinvented Maccabees; a howling slide guitar and ominous bass line reveals the dark underbelly of ‘Given…’ – which acts as a twisted centerpiece to the record. “Couldn’t it just lie?” Orlando frets over gentle harmonics before the whole thing climbs to an intense, rollicking, summit.

‘Heave’
The spiritual, synth/string orchestration on ‘Heave’ is laid on a glorious bed of crashing wave symbols and scuffed 50s guitars, with Orlando doing his finest Chris Martin impersonation in the process. “Are we so different?” he questions, before the track blossoms with ping-ponging guitar lines, echoed vocal cries and galloping, tribal drums. The ending – like a sinister eighties offcut – is brushed away by…

‘Pelican’
…the immediately familiar garage-guitar stabs of first single ‘Pelican’. Its instant appeal and contagious rhythm act as a spontaneous mood-changer here. It climaxes with a circling, whirring guitar line that triumphantly explodes into thin air.

‘Went Away’
‘Went…’ sees a spiralling synth line – that flirts with 80s new wave – married with Orlando’s Jonsi-ish falsetto and pounding drums. It soars and surges with gang vocals, all swept up in ‘I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For’-aping optimism, before leaving us hanging on the line “Hold me close, don’t let me go/I need you”.

‘Go’
The most eclectic effort here starts with electronic beats and handclaps – vaguely recalling New Order’s ‘Blue Monday’ – that are intercepted by giant ethereal waves of feedback and stunted, popping bass. “It’s not enough and it never was,” howls Orlando, before ‘Go’ fidgets its way to a mammoth, wind machine-warranting guitar solo.

‘Unknow’
Stomping bass and ticking percussion welcomes us to ‘Unknow’, which feeds off the colossal venue ambition of ‘Only By The Night’-era Kings Of Leon. It rumbles and rouses, bathing in canyon-like production before ascending to an oddly choral finale. The mock menace of the final chord…

‘Slowly One’
…leans into to the quiet melancholy of ‘Slowly One’ with its simple, chiming delayed guitars. “Little by little by little by little” coos Orlando over sweeping strings, before this low-key torch song explodes into fuzzy fretwork like a less ferocious spin on Radiohead’s ‘My Iron Lung’.

‘Grew Up At Midnight’
The closer begins in equally delicate fashion. Heart-wrenching melodies and sporadic strings slowly build throughout, with the same imminent quality as ‘Neon Bible’ finale ‘No Cars Go’, before transforming into the joyously bombastic territory of The Polyphonic Spree. “We grew up at midnight” wails Orlando, before the Phil Spector-production disappears entirely, leaving just the hollow chiming guitar with which the whole thing began.

Jim West