IDLES’ fifth album is a collection of love songs. For singer Joe Talbot, it couldn’t be anything else. “At the time of writing this album, I was quite lost,” he tells Apple Music. “Not musically, it was a beautiful time for music. But emotionally, my nervous system needed organizing, and I needed to sort my shit out. So I did. That came from me realizing that I needed love in my life, and that I had sometimes lost my narrative in the art, which is that love is all I’ve ever sung about.” From a band wearied by other people’s attempts to pin narrow labels like “punk” or “political” to their expansive, thoughtful music, that’s as concise a summary as you’ll get. It’s also an accurate one. The Bristol five-piece’s music has always viewed the world with an empathetic eye, processing the human effects and impulses around subjects as varied as grief, immigration, kindness, toxic masculinity, and anxiety. And on their fourth album, 2021’s *CRAWLER*, the aggression and sinew of earlier songs gave way to more space and restraint as Talbot turned inward to reckon with his experiences with addiction. For *TANGK*, that experimentation continued while the band’s initial ideas were developed with Radiohead producer Nigel Godrich in London during late 2022, before the record was completed with *CRAWLER* co-producer Kenny Beats joining the team to record in the south of France. They’ve emerged with an album where an Afrobeat rhythm played out on an obscure drum machine (“Grace”) or a gentle piano melody recorded on an iPhone (“A Gospel”) hit with as much impact as a gale-force guitar riff (“Gift Horse”). Exploring the thrills and the scars of love in multiple forms, Talbot leans ever more into singing over firebrand fury. “I’ve got a kid now, and part of my learning is to have empathy when I parent,” he says. “And with that comes delicacy. To use empathy is a delicate and graceful act. And that’s coming out in my art, because I’m also being delicate and graceful with myself, forgiving myself, and giving myself time to learn. I don’t want to lie.” Discover more with Talbot’s track-by-track guide to *TANGK*. **“IDEA 01”** “It was the first thing \[guitarist and co-producer Mark\] Bowen worked on, and Bowen, being the egotistical maniac that he is, called it ‘IDEA 01’ because he forgot that it was actually idea seven. But, bless him, he does like attention. But, yes, it was the first song that was written in Nigel’s studio. Bowen sat at the piano and started playing, and it was beautiful. ‘IDEA 01’ is different vignettes around old friends that I haven’t seen since Devon \[where Talbot grew up\], and the relationships I had with them and their families, and how crazy certain people’s families are. Bowen’s beautiful piano part reminded me of this song we wrote on the last album, ‘Kelechi.’ Kelechi was a good friend of mine who sadly passed away, and I hadn’t seen him since I waved him off to move to Manchester with his family. I just had this feeling I was never going to see him again. Maybe I’m writing that in my head now, but he was a beautiful, beautiful man. I loved him. I think maybe if we were still friends, part of me could have helped him, but that’s, again, fantasy I think.” **“Gift Horse”** “I was trying to get this disco thing going, so I gave Jon \[Beavis, drummer\] a bunch of disco beats to work on. And Dev \[bassist Adam Devonshire\] is bang into The Rapture and !!! and LCD Soundsystem, and he turned out that bassline real quick. I wrote a song around it, and it felt great. It was what my intentions of the album were: to make people dance and not think, because love is a very complex thing that doesn’t need to be thought. It can just be acted, and worked on, and danced with. I just wanted to make people move, and get that physicality of the live experience in people’s bones. I had this concept of a gift horse as a theme of a song, and it sang to me. I like that grotesque phrase, ‘Never look a gift horse in the mouth.’ It’s about my daughter, and I’m very grateful for her, and our relationship, and I wanted to write a beast of a tune around her.” **“POP POP POP”** “I read \[‘freudenfreude’\] online somewhere. It was like, words that don’t exist that should exist. Schadenfreude is such a dark thing, to enjoy other people’s misery, so the idea of someone enjoying someone else’s joy is great. Being a parent, you suddenly are entwined with someone else’s joys and lows. I love seeing her dance, and have a good time, and grow as a person, and learn, so I wanted to write a song about it.” **“Roy”** “It’s an allegorical story that sums up a lot of my behavior towards my partners over a 15-year period where I was in a cycle of absolute worship and then fear, jealousy and assholery. I wanted to dedicate it to my girlfriend, who I call Roy. She’s not called Roy. I wanted it to be about the idea of a man who is in love and then his fears take over, and he starts acting like a prick to push that person away. Then he wakes up in the morning with a horrible hangover, realizing what he’s done, and he apologizes. He is then forgiven in the chorus, and rejoicing ensues.” **“A Gospel”** “It’s a reflection on breakups, which I think are a learning curve. I think all my exes deserve a medal, and they’ve taught me a lot. It’s really a tender moment of a dream I used to have, then \[it\] dances between different tiny memories, tiny vignettes of what happened before, and me just giving a nod to those moments and saying goodbye, which is beautiful. No heartbreak, really. I’ve been through the heartbreak now. It’s just me smiling and being like, ‘Yeah, you were right. Thank you very much.’” **“Dancer” (with LCD Soundsystem)** “The best form of dance is to express yourself freely within a group who are also expressing themselves freely, the true embodiment of communion. The last time I had this sense of euphoria from that was an Oh Sees gig at the \[Sala\] Apolo in Barcelona. I closed my eyes and let the mosh push me from one side of the room to the other and back. I didn’t open my eyes once, I just smiled and was carried by this organism of beautiful rage. Dancing’s a really big part of my personality. I love it. My mum always danced. Even in her most ill days \[Talbot’s mother passed away during the recording of 2017 debut *Brutalism*\], she would always get up and dance, and enjoy herself. I dance with my daughter every day that I have her. I think it’s magic and important.” **“Grace”** “It all came out of nowhere. I had this beat in mind for a while—I was thinking of an aggro Afrobeat kind of track. But it didn’t come out like that. It came out like what happens when Nigel Godrich gets his hands on your Afrobeat stuff. I asked Nigel to make the beat, and he chose the LinnDrum \[’80s drum machine\]. The LinnDrum changes the sound of a beat, the tone of a drum, the cadence of a beat, it changed the beat completely. It’s a very, very delicate thing, a beat. It sounded like a different song to me. It sounded amazing. And that’s where the bassline came from. And then that’s where the vocals came from. It felt a bit uneasy for a long time because it came out of nowhere. Me and Bowen were like, ‘Is this right? Is this complete?’ I think it just has to feel like you, like it is part of you and what you mean at the moment, that’s all. An album’s an episode of where you’re at in the world in that point in time.” **“Hall & Oates”** “I wanted to write a glam-rock pounder about falling in love with your boys. My ex and I used to joke about this thing where you make love to someone for the first time, and then the next day, you’re walking on air, and it feels like Hall & Oates is playing. The birds are singing, you’re bouncing around and everything’s great. I wanted to use that analogy for when you make friends with someone for the first time, and they make you feel good, lighter, stronger, excited to see them again. And that’s what happened in lockdown: I made friends with \[Bristol-based singer-songwriter\] Willie J Healey and my mate Ben, and we went on bike rides whenever we could, getting out and feeling good post-lockdown. It gave me a sense of purpose again. It felt like I was falling in love.” **“Jungle”** “I was trying to write a jungle tune for ages. The guitar line was a jungle bassline that I had but it just never fit what we were writing. And then Bowen started playing the chords on the guitar and it transformed it into something completely different. It completely revitalized what I’d been dragging through the mud for five years. Bowen made it IDLES, made it real, made it believable, made it beautiful. And then it reminded me of getting nicked, so I wrote a song about different times that I’ve been in trouble.” **“Gratitude”** “This was a real struggle. Bowen was really obsessed about doing interesting counts with the beats. I just wanted to make people dance and create infectious beats. We were coming from very different angles, but we loved this song that Bowen had made. I was like, ‘I get it, Bowen. This is insane. I love it, but I can’t get it.’ We hung on to it for ages, and then Nigel really helped us out, he created spaces and bits here and there by turning things down and moving everything slightly. Then Kenny helped me out, and got rid of the stupid counts, I think, and helped me write it on a 4/4 beat. And then they changed it back. I just come in in weird places. Everyone chipped in, because everyone believed in the song.” **“Monolith”** “I was fascinated by films where four or five notes are repeated throughout and create this monolithic motif. There’s a sense of continuity but the mood changes depending on certain things like tone and instruments. I wanted to do that over a song, and we got our friend Colin \[Webster\] from \[London noise rock unit\] Sex Swing to do the sax, we did it on different instruments that Nigel had. Nigel went away and basically put it all through the hollow-body bass. It reminded me of a documentary from a series called *The Blues* that Martin Scorsese curated. *The Soul of a Man* \[directed by Wim Wenders\] is about a song \[Blind Willie Johnson’s ‘Dark Was the Night’\] getting sent into space. If any aliens get this capsule, they’ll hear this song being played from a blues artist. It created a really beautiful and deep picture in my mind. It felt like this monolith drifting in the ether. I started singing a blues riff behind it, a Skip James kind of thing. I think it’s a beautiful way to finish the album—us drifting in the ether.”
“I know that my world is grown old,” Robert Smith says in “And Nothing Is Forever,” one of the many standout tracks on The Cure’s 14th studio album and first in 16 years. *Songs of a Lost World* deals almost exclusively in death, dying, and the relentless march of time; the songs move slowly, and many go on for minutes before Smith opens his mouth. There’s no pop hits, no hooks, and—let’s face it—no fun. It’s also some of the band’s most engrossing work, a statement that, like most great Cure songs, can’t be taken lightly. The glacially paced opener and lead single, “Alone,” is majestic and mournful, with string swells and apocalyptic lyrics about birds falling out of the sky. But mostly it’s about dying alone, the shattered pieces of a regret-filled life, and the forgone conclusion that is our mutual demise: “This is the end of every song that we sing.” On “A Fragile Thing,” a plinking piano gives way to a thudding bassline as Smith sings of heartbreak, distance, and fait accompli. It might be the closest the album comes to vintage ’80s Cure, but now the 65-year-old Smith’s customarily downbeat lyrics come with the weight of lived wisdom and cruel inevitability. “Warsong” twists the screws with a churning, droning meditation on domestic battles and bitter regret; at a bit over four minutes, it’s also the shortest song on the album. “Drone:Nodrone” is the catchiest and most upbeat of the bunch—musically speaking, anyway. Smith’s lyrics are no picnic, of course. They’re not a completely hopeless death spiral, but they certainly acknowledge a tumultuous relationship: “The answers that I have are not the answers that you want” and “I can’t anymore/If I ever really could.” The track also features squalling guitar leads from former Tin Machine/David Bowie sideman Reeves Gabrels, who joined The Cure in 2012 but makes his first studio appearance with the band here. “I Can Never Say Goodbye” laments the death of Smith’s brother Richard with the refrain “Something wicked this way comes,” a phrase popularized by the title of Ray Bradbury’s influential 1962 novel. (The Cure debuted the song in concert in 2022 in Poland, where Richard Smith apparently lived for many years.) Like much of *Lost World*, it’s a tearjerker. With all this loss and mortality, *Songs of a Lost World* recalls Bowie’s 2016 swan song, *Blackstar*. Finishing an album about death with a sprawling, gorgeous track called “Endsong” isn’t necessarily ominous, but who knows? For what it’s worth, Smith is already promising a follow-up to *Songs of a Lost World*. Hopefully, it won’t take 16 years.
Cage the Elephant’s *Neon Pill* arrives five years after their 2019 Grammy-winning global breakthrough *Social Cues*. Brothers and bandleaders Matt and Brad Shultz lost their father in the interim, the group mourned the death of friends, and Matt spent time in the hospital with severe depression. This tragedy, fight, spirit, and resolve is messily and triumphantly wrapped into *Neon Pill*, an album that finds the band forging their own sound devoid of outside influence, channeling their rollicking live show into a meditation on life, death, and music’s healing power. Take the psych-folk-leaning title track, which tells the story of Matt’s battle with mental illness, looking for answers but only finding more questions. As the band so often does, they mask dark and searching lyrics with melodic candy, making these philosophical queries go down more easily. On the track, Matt sings: “It\'s a hit and run, oh no/Double-crossed by a neon pill/Like a loaded gun, my love/I lost control of the wheel/Double-crossed by a neon pill.” Just like the story of the band over the past five years, the track includes a phoenix-like resurgence: “Knocked down, not out, let\'s roll.”
On their sixth album, Swedish metal conjurers Tribulation allow the goth side of their personality to overshadow their death-metal roots. *Sub Rosa in Aeternum* sees vocalist/bassist Johannes Andersson mostly ditching his demonic growl for a clean, stentorian delivery akin to that of Sisters of Mercy’s Andrew Eldritch. “We wanted to do something new,” guitarist Adam Zaars tells Apple Music. “I was looking back at the previous three albums, and they’re each very much their own thing, but still similar enough for me to be craving something else. At first, we didn’t really know what that new thing would be.” Then Andersson, who hadn’t written a Tribulation song in nearly 20 years, presented his demo for what would become *Sub Rosa*’s closer, “Poison Pages.” “Obviously, the biggest change is the clean vocals,” Zaars says. “But we didn’t know if it was going to work. We’d been talking about it, but just using it as another instrument, like background harmonies or maybe a cool chorus on some song. When Johannes showed us ‘Poison Pages,’ it felt liberating—and a lot of fun to explore new ground.” *Sub Rosa* is also the first album Tribulation wrote without guitarist Jonathan Hultén, who left the band before the release of 2021’s *Where the Gloom Becomes Sound*. As a result, new guitarist Joseph Tholl contributed quite a bit of material here. “The overall sound on the album absolutely has to do with Joseph being in the band,” Zaars says. “He wrote more songs than I did. With Joseph being another type of songwriter, another type of guitar player, it feels like the beginning of a new era.” Below, Zaars comments on each track. **“The Unrelenting Choir”** “Johannes wrote this song. He hasn’t written a song since our first demo, so this was something very new for everyone. And he did great, I would say. The original version was actually longer. Where it stops now, it went into this very cool Death SS-sounding part that we might use in the future. But we needed an intro, we felt, and Johannes did this one. It has a very ‘welcome to the show’ kind of feel. He got the idea for the bass at the beginning from some podcast he listens to. He won’t tell us which one.” **“Tainted Skies”** “That’s a Joseph song sounding very much like Tribulation, but in his own special way. This is one of the things that he brought to the table that really challenged us, daring us to try new things out. The lyrics are about reincarnation, I guess, but more specifically about the in-between stage—the bardo, as the Buddhists call it. Dying and being reborn has been a Tribulation theme since forever.” **“Saturn Coming Down”** “What made me write this song with that weird intro riff was, I wanted a guitar sound that was something different, where it almost feeds back, where it’s chaotic in a way. I don’t even remember how I did it because I’m far, far from being a sound gear guy. I want to be, but I have no interest. So, it was just sheer luck that I found this strange, almost surf-guitar sound that’s a little bit Dead Kennedys. The song is about Saturn, obviously, but when I write lyrics for Tribulation, it’s like a game of association. It’s Saturn from every possible direction, so people shouldn’t be looking for a coherent theme. Well, not too coherent at least.” **“Hungry Waters”** “This is another Joseph song. It’s not as Tribulation as ‘Tainted Skies.’ The first time he showed this to me, I loved it, but I didn\'t think it could be on the album. I think that was before we decided to have a bunch of clean vocals on the album. That really was a catalyst for a few of these songs that would probably never have happened if we hadn\'t made that decision. It’s something fresh and new for us. The mid-section with the solos is very Tribulation, very Italian horror-soundtrack sounding. I was almost surprised by how well Joseph knew the sound. I’m still amazed by him writing this song.” **“Drink the Love of God”** “What the fuck is the love of God and how do you drink it? I know the answer, but I don’t want to be transparent. But I can say this: It’s the second song that was written specifically from that guitar sound from ‘Saturn Coming Down.’ It’s very rare for me to write songs quickly, but I did for this. The only other one I can remember like that is ‘The Motherhood of God’ from *The Children of the Night*. It was our producer Tom Dalgety’s idea to add the key change after the solo. Being European, I think it’s a very schlager way of writing a song. But he was right, and I was wrong, I’m happy to say.” **“Murder in Red”** “This is probably my baby on the album. Most of it wasn’t very difficult to write, but it was difficult to finish. I made a demo of this that sounded almost industrial, but Johannes took it in a completely different direction with his vocals. That was very cool, almost like a Chris Isaak song to some extent. We were pushing our boundaries in a very satisfying way. Lyrically, I’ve been into gialli and violent Italian cinema since I was 13, when I bought *Cannibal Holocaust* on VHS. Since then, I’ve been hooked. Early Tribulation lyrics were oriented more towards zombie cannibal flicks, but this is more like earlier Argento and Mario Bava.” **“Time & the Vivid Ore”** “This is a song by Joseph that’s as much a part of something old as it is of something new. It almost sounds as though it could be from *Where the Gloom Becomes Sound*, but since it’s written by Joseph, it has its own distinct *Sub Rosa* flavor to it. It’s got one of the coolest solo sections on the album, displaying both mine and Joseph’s style of guitar playing and how they, in our opinion, complement each other. It’s also the only song with exclusively growling vocals!” **“Reaping Song”** “It’s one of the songs on the album that’s quite out there in comparison with our old material—somber, melancholic, romantic, haunting, and beautiful. It wasn’t supposed to be a Nick Cave homage to begin with, and I didn’t even think of it before Tom started talking about it. Then, of course, Joseph wanted it to be called ‘Reaping Song,’ which is an obvious reference to Nick Cave. But I know it wasn’t, at first, written to be that—it just happened to sound somewhat like Nick Cave. The ‘Reaping Song’ is a song within a song, as that is what the protagonist of the story sings every year when the harvest season is upon us. Death meta.” **“Poison Pages”** “This is the song that really settled the new direction with the clean vocals. Johannes wrote it, and in the demo, he was singing. It wasn’t a decision that happened instantaneously, but after listening to it a lot, I think we all realized that this could be something to pursue. It’s a very goth-rock kind of song about *The Name of the Rose*, specifically the movie. Umberto Eco’s book, Jean-Jacques Annaud’s movie, and the soundtrack by James Horner have all been a huge source of inspiration for the band for a very long time, but this is the first time we’re this explicit about it. There’s so much in there that is just a very good fit for Tribulation. The beast is among us!”
