Bloc
Party
A Weekend In The City
Just
one look at the cover of Bloc Party’s second album makes
it clear that, despite the ‘city’ being in the title
it is certainly not a place singer Kele Okereke holds close to
his heart.
The motorways crawling over the sleeve like an inescapable labyrinth
signal an album of despair and a solemn warning to anyone happy
with city life. But while the dark sentiment remains loud and
clear, the songs on A Weekend in a City are a mixed bag.
Silent
Alarm, the highly acclaimed debut from this London quartet,
raised hopes of bright things to come.
The winning formula continues with moody and strong opener ‘Song
for Clay (Disappear Here)’. It resembles Muse’s ‘New
Born’ and sets Okereke’s vision of life in London
straight away; ‘and London is a vampire, it will suck the
blood right out of you.’ Charming.
The alarm is raised further on ‘Hunting for Witches’,
a song highlighting the paranoia of terrorism. It is equally brilliant.
So
far so good then? Problems arise when halfway through the album
seems to go into autopilot, and the listener is offered precious
little apart from a disappointing anonymity.
When Kele Okereke is close to express his true feelings and emotions
on songs like ‘Sunday’ and ‘I Still Remember’,
it’s as if something is holding him back from doing so.
The latter is particularly embarrassing with its U2 riff. A ‘stadium
rocker’ that would struggle at the smallest of football
grounds never mind Wembley Stadium.
And when Kele mutters; ‘concerned mothers of the west, teach
your children how to love’ at the end of ‘Kreuzberg’,
in an attempt to make the leap from cheap one night stands to
love, it just gets ridiculous. It may be good for a rallying speech,
but not on a make or break second album.
A
Weekend in a City pays the penalty for not grabbing the listener’s
attention from start to finish. A real shame because the first
six songs are excellent. The latter six are definitely not. It
will go down in the books as a second album not quite living up
to the potential of its predecessor.
by
Tom Stevens
