Atlantic Culture An indie god awakens?
A roller-coaster, a pantomime, a really weird ZZ Top video; Razorlight’s 16 years have seen many bizarre and unpredictable phases. Now, eight years after the original lineup fell apart acrimoniously and
following an ill-advised stint with a replacement bunch of pirates and pimps, frontman Borrell is back with a band that looks like a band, and a back-to-basics fourth album that recaptures adroitly his initial dizzy rock rush, like a breathless Television.
Midsummer Girl, Carry Yourself and Japanrock are all effective, effervescent Razorlight pogo rock, a 50s prom swing takes hold of Sorry?, Brighton Pier and the title track, and only Iceman
– a Sheeran-esque Celtic lilt casting Borrell as a down-on-hisluck wedding singer – and the odd cry of “hubris, hubris!” will raise smirks this time round.
A must-buy, if only for the brilliant soap-opera twist of watching Johnny Borrell rise from the ashes.