CROWS
Beware Believers (Bad Vibrations)
First and foremost, it bears saying that Beware Believers is far from being a bad album. From the full-throttle grungy riffage of Closer Still right through to the epic squall of Daniel Johnston tribute Sad Lad, it’s a model of consistent quality. Slowly Separate puts some punch into Yard Act, Room 156 is Interpol with genuine fire in the belly, and in Healing, Crows have a potent anthem for the bruised and broken.
And yet… There’s a feeling that the foursome have pitched up to the postpunk party unfashionably late, their peers having already moved on to more interesting places. Lyrically and conceptually, it comes across as something of a sterile tick-box exercise. Brexit? Check. Dead-end jobs? Check. Disconnection and division? Check. Ballard and Vonnegut? Checkity-check. Perhaps most disappointing, though, is the fact that at no point over the course of its 38-minute runtime does it spring any surprises whatsoever.
words BEN WOOLHEAD
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