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Wild Beasts are known to be a bit of an outsider
...and not just because their from the UK
...and not just because, even on that grande islande, they're sprung from an old, overlooked, grey town in secluded northern England
there's also the showy, snaky falsetto lead vocals wielding blushable ballads over moody baroque-excursions that have seemed to rub listeners the weird, or wrong ways, thick with syrupy synths, brooding bass and inner-demon-baiting beats.
Not your typical "indie-rock," to be sure, and inevitably conjuring the adnauseum copy-pasted adjective: "theatrical" -from many a' blog and music zine on both sides of the pond and all sides of the internet...
They've also changed things up, stylistically, atmospherically, on each of their three records, making it harder for anyone to stay on their trail through the murky and mellodious woods of their songs.
This year's Smother seems to have finally won them the respect they deserve (even from me, -considering now, that I've only come around to it after the fifth or sixth listen)- they're not kowtowing to packs of numb, jittery bloggers who just want to crown them the next-new-fill-in-the-blank-phenom from England - they're not even continuing the dirty, danceable airs conjured on their breakthrough LP from 09...they're instead going darker, more detached, more of a drift of sordid sighs and provacative nocturnes...
See how it plays out on a stage - 9/30 - at the Magic Bag in Ferndale.
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