The Wake

Duplicating the success of a heralded first album is a task unrivaled in difficulty. Bloc Party, a foursome out of England, set the bar high with their 2005 release, Silent Alarm, an album that led to frequent comparisons to dance rock predecessors like Gang of Four and Joy Division. They are now stepping up to the plate with their second album, A Weekend in the City.

The opener, “Song for Clay (Disappear Here),” starts quietly. Singer Kele Okereke relays the thoughts of his troubled mind over strummed guitar and mounting strings. Unfortunately, the guitar riff is second rate, and fails to recreate the urgency of their last opener, “Like Eating Glass.” It is thankfully aided by some chirpy background vocals, overtaken by the resurgent deep baritone of Okereke’s voice, but lacks the catchy choruses and soul-stirring chants which anchored the core of Silent Alarm. Okereke’s words remain sullen throughout the album, though this time from a new perspective. Whereas before the cry was for sought-after love and the insecurities in its way, A Weekend in the City is focused on the riggers of fame. Few can speak to the life altering complexities of fame, and the relatable romanticism of Silent Alarm has passed.

With that out of the way, I can assure this album rocks in its own right. Drummer Matt Tong appears un-phased, remaining an innovatively driving force whose tumultuous hammering and precise fills will likely prove an inspiration to a future crop of British drummers. On “Waiting for the 7.18,” a smiling bell loop starts a tale of transportation affairs, and then tears through the remainder of the song as if his skinny arms were engulfed in flames. There are some processed beats; gun shots and hand claps kick off “The Prayer,” and reoccurring background bells and shakers grace the album when necessary. The bass is given fewer opportunities to showcase, but maintains its cohesive relationship with the drums, a staple of the Bloc Party sound. The guitars are sharp and punchy, but noticeably less aggressive than in the earlier album. This is not to say they aren’t raucous in a new way. The tremulous crescendo on album closer “SXRT” makes an equal impact as any Bloc Party moment on record. The full choir at the song’s end seems forced and far too grandiose to be genuine, but it wins you over quick, and leaves you lifted.

This album receives a 7.9 out of ten on Carl’s, less highfalutin then Pitchfork and far more consistent than Rolling Stone, scale of review.