Wild Beasts’s career has been one of consistency. They’ve been able to churn out endearing synth rock for more than eight years, over what is now four albums. Present Tense, their latest, only adds to their impressive resume. It finds the band in a strong groove. They give off a radiant confidence on Present Tense and even the songs that don’t completely work feel carefully created. Not many bands sounds as completely in control of their sound like Wild Beasts do on this album. There is a feeling of weight to these songs, and being able to set that tone is difficult in its own right. Making a beautiful album on top of it is even more impressive, and that is what Wild Beasts have done here.
Starting your album off with what can be considered its best song is a gambit that few bands take. It can set an impossible standard for the rest of the album, leading to disappointment. In Present Tense’s case, it sets the table for what’s to come without overselling the album. That opening track, “Wanderlust,” is a torrent of controlled fury. It culminates with the lyrics “Don’t confuse me with someone who gives a fuck.” This might sound silly coming from anyone other than maybe the most nonchalant punk band, but vocalist Hayden Thorpe’s dramatic voice is able to make you believe in what he’s saying. His range and style goes a long way in creating the intense atmosphere on Present Tense.
That atmosphere is one of the most noticeable aspects of Present Tense. Every song has a level of drama. Some more than others, but each has weight to it. Many of the songs feel almost subdued, yet tense (there is even a song called “Pregnant Pause,” which in itself proves that it was on their mind). Each piece of the composition is carefully placed in its exact spot. A simple keyboard or guitar part seems to drift into the more dramatic parts of many songs, giving them added emphasis. This isn’t a bombastic album by any means. Musically, it’s very subtle; letting the tension it creates give songs their spark.
One of the best examples of this is halfway through the album on “Daughters.” There is a seemingly vague action that gives Thorpe’s narrator a fear of his daughter. You get the feeling that something horrible has happened, but it’s never fully explained. Around three minutes into the song, there is a breakdown led by driving drums and synth. It is foreboding to say the least, especially as it comes directly after Thorpe gravely sings the lyrics “…from the edge, and broke my little girl, a destroyer of worlds.” We again see that gravitas play a major part in the albums success. While it is a vague proclamation, it opens up the imagination to whatever horrible thing that might have befallen the narrator’s family. While vagueness can sometimes hurt an album’s relatability, Wild Beasts have managed to form this uncertainty into another way to create mystery on Present Tense.
Present Tense is an album that thrives on its ability to create tension. While it never really hits a proverbial high point, it’s able to keep the listener’s attention throughout simply on how perfectly composed it is. It takes each part to create this whole, from Thorpe’s shifting vocal style based on what emotions need to be set, to Chris Talbot’s drumming, which sets the pace for each shift in tone. It’s a rock album that borders on many other styles, and feels like it was meticulously created. While it lacks a true high point, it never dips in quality. Though it may not have more than a few brilliant passages, when you look at the whole story the brilliance is obvious. It’s an album that must be heard all the way through with rapt attention. Without this, the listener may not pick up on just how complex Present Tense is. In this day and age it’s hard to do that, but if the time is put in, Present Tense is an album that rewards whatever effort is given.
Review by Justin Owlett. You can follow him on Twitter at @JustOwle.
