Smother
The plump furnishings of their first two albums gone, *Smother is a heartbroken ruin where Wild Beasts add grave, staticky synths to their graceful guitar pop. It turns out they do heartbreak just as well as they do lust, and survey their own failings with the acuity they brought to British mating rituals on Two Dancers. They wring loss from a plate of abandoned breakfast on “Deeper” and Hayden Thorpe gasps at his own cruel nature on “Plaything”.*
The uncompromising UK art-pop group returns with a record that continues down the path of Two Dancers, paring its sound down even further.
In the realm of niche-y subgenres, baroque pop is one of the more difficult to expand upon. Marked by a flair for the theatrical and general drama-kid sensibilities, it’s a novel style, but a reductive one. Credit England’s Wild Beasts for continuing to inject the oft-stagnant formula with some much-needed sex. Not…
'Smother' makes the Mercury-nominated, breakthrough album, 'Two Dancers', "seem like something of a prototype", argues Jamie Milton. "It works as an ‘album’ far better than any of its beloved ancestors."
Few are on the fence about Wild Beasts: You’re either madly in love with the Kendal, England four-piece or you find them alienating and off-putting.
Wild Beasts and, specifically, Hayden Thorpe, divide and conquer opinion more than most.
A change of direction for Wild Beasts results in album of extraordinary beauty, writes <strong>Dave Simpson</strong>
Wild Beasts - Smother review: Unique, ethereal and brilliant. This isn't an album that you can afford to miss.