Easily recognisable amongst other bands from the post-Arctic Monkeys British
rock boom, Klaxons are three young men from East London with a sound that
immediately distinguishes them from the majority of their contemporaries.
Despite only forming at the end of 2005, the band have quickly gathered a
devoted fanbase via internet download MySpace, as well as being hailed as
one of the finest live acts in the country. Heavily influenced by the rave
scene that dominated British dance music during the late '80s and early '90s,
the Klaxons blend a euphoric dancefloor spirit and electronic influences into
their post-punk template; a template that has seen them dubbed the leaders
of the 'New Rave' movement by the British media
'Surfing The Void' is the second studio album by 2007's Mercury Music Prize
Winners, the Klaxons. Shedding the 'Nu Rave' tag by working with esteemed
producer Ross Robinson (Slipknot, Korn, At The Drive-In), the group revel in
more dense and cosmic influences ranging from progressive rock to space-
age folk and Kraut rock. Constructing vast and imaginative soundscapes with
their trademark harmonies and melodies, thisis their most adventurous and
boldest recording to date. Includes the tracks 'Flashover' and 'Echoes'.
BBC Review
Who are these people, and in which stinking Shoreditch alley have they
dumped the soiled, miaow-riddled body of new rave? Three years ago
Klaxons were painted as the spurious genre’s idiot storm troopers by a music
media who made the whole thing up anyway before ditching the band to free
up valuable column inches for the altogether more pressing business of
reporting Pete Doherty’s drug farts. Meanwhile, the trio’s nods to 90s rave
culture – some bright hoodies and squelchy synths – instantaneously earned
them the ire of ‘serious’ critics who hoped the whole dreadful racket would
simply do the decent thing and fall on its own glowstick.
Luckily for Jamie Reynolds, James Righton and Simon Taylor-Davis, they were
able to laugh the entire caper off as a private joke that got out of hand, and
if their 2007 debut album Myths of the Near Future has worn about as well as
the reedy earliest efforts of, say, Depeche Mode and The Prodigy, then
Surfing the Void finds them operating nearer those two bands’ high water
marks: Violator and The Fat of the Land.
The catalyst for this miraculous turnaround appears to be the unlikely figure
of producer Ross Robinson, better known for sprinkling his angle grinder’s
fairy dust on albums by Korn, Limp Bizkit and Slipknot. Earlier sessions with
Simian Mobile Disco’s James Ford resulted in Polydor supposedly rejecting the
first version of the album, but Robinson is an inspired choice, his way with
skull-crushing density ‘roiding up Klaxons’ sound like a muscle mary. There’s
no smoke without fire, however, and the band still needed to come up with
the framework on which Robinson could hang his sonic black holes.
Don’t despair space cadets: it’s not as if Klaxons have ditched the sort of
lyrical nonsense that had Reynolds asking us to “flank my foghorn” on
Gravity’s Rainbow. Oh no. As Extra Astronomical, Cypherspeed and the
title-track all suggest, the same sort of eccentricity that sees Matt Bellamy
pegged as a loveable boffin is well intact, but it’s the sheer depth of the
sound that drags you in like ultimate gravity. Also intact is their underlying
pop instinct, common to every band Robinson works with, but he never gets
in the way of the basic thrills on stadium-sized single Echoes or the rushing
Flashover.
It may stick in the craw of anyone who previously dismissed Klaxons as callow
stooges in a record company marketing plan, but against the odds it might be
time to sit up and pay them some respect.
--Andy Fyfe
Let's not bullshit: That is an album cover for the ages, but it's disappointing
that a LOLcat in a spacesuit has done a better job of causing stateside
excitement for the Klaxons' new LP than the band's debut, Myths of the Near
Future. Back home in the UK, Klaxons won the 2007 Mercury Prize with that
album, gave bombastic interviews that namedropped Pynchon and the KLF,
and had four hit singles plus a handful of other songs that could have been.
But in the U.S., Myths seemed victimized by the same distrust of UK next-
big-things that also hamstrung Arctic Monkeys and Foals and ended up being
a strange combination of overhyped and underrated.
More than anything, it was the nu-rave tag that hurt: For one thing, pretty
much of all the rest of that stuff has aged poorly to date. But Klaxons aren't
really nu-rave, they're a genre unto themselves; Surfing the Void confirms
that. Through a range of imperious vocal stylings, Jamie Reynolds' lyrics
convey the sort of proggy mumbo-jumbo borne of both arcane literature and
psychedelic drugs, but couched within punishingly dense half-punk, half-
arena freakouts that probably sound terrible if you're high. What is "The
Flashover" and what will a "myriad of silver disks" have to do with it? Beats
me, but that hardly matters-- what does matter is how the chorus bumrushes
your ears like a wave of blitzing linebackers.
Klaxons' real roots in rave are that they play to the madness of crowds--
"Echoes" and "Twin Flames" are marked with undeniable, hands-in-the-air
choruses that are nonsense out of context but gain power as shared
experiences. By and large, Klaxons are less pop and more rock on Surfing the
Void, and it's undoubtedly tied with having nu-metal's house producer Ross
Robinson behind the boards after a number of rejected producers and
aborted recording sessions. It was a risky decision from an artistic
standpoint-- Robinson is a four-star general on the wrong side of
respectability, and he rarely does anything out of the red.
But the partnership is mostly inspired here, as few are better at catching
sheer physical impact on tape and the end-to-end intensity of Klaxons' trades
out the brittle treble of Myths for a thickness that justifies them as a fully
formed rock band. Yet, though Surfing can match Myths on a song-by-song
basis, the Hulked-out sound occasionally comes at the expense of their
frantic artiness. Surfing intentionally doesn't give you a whole lot of space to
yourself, and "Echoes" is pretty much the only entry point. If it doesn't draw
you in from the word go, I imagine it'd be a tough task to take the spastic title
track or the nerdier, all-loud Pixies style of "Venusia" on a case-by-case basis.
But while Surfing occasionally fails and does so loudly, but there's something
thrillingly unfashionable about how Klaxons take aim at their grayer peers
with a tommy gun full of glowsticks-- they don't always hit their target, but
it's a gloriously fun mess all the same.
— Ian Cohen, August 26, 2010
Klaxons exploded onto the music scene this year in a dayglo burst of punk
riffs, all out hedonism and classic British art school conceptual cheek. Now
with their debut album Jamie Reynolds, Simon Taylor, and James
Righton look set to prove that they're more than just a flash in the pan, a
London media fad, an excuse to froth about 'new rave'. The lads have come
good with eleven tracks that rocket by in thirty-five minutes emanating more
energy than a nuclear explosion. Along the way, they bite chunks out of
multiple unlikely musical influences, spatter their lyrics with a who's who of
cult literature, and end up with a music that's catchy, driven and undeniably
unique. It's how debut albums should sound, a raw manifesto that will
bemuse the oldsters and invigorate the fans, a window into new possibilities,
a dynamic party where those who 'get it' dance frantically and those who
don't go back home.
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