Two years ago, young Scottish scruffs, Idlewild, were a B-league rock outfit, happily bashing out their distinctive blend of intelligent, unrelenting but forgettable guitar fluster. They weren't the kind who craved fame, fast cars or fat bank balances and their last album, '100 Broken Windows', although well received, quickly slipped out of the chart and out of memory.
For Idlewild that was just fine. They had a modest, but incredibly loyal, fanbase and appeared content just bashing out their trademark jock-rock clatter to an already converted audience.
On new album, 'The Remote Part', however, Idlewild have refused to tread the same path and, instead, launched a full on assault on the record buying public. They've become accomplished, exciting, restrained and wise. It's a thrilling turn around for a band that could have broken another 100 windows without even working up a sweat.
Just listen to 'American English' and their triumph becomes apparent. A slowburner that sees Roddy writing about his frustration with the navel-gazing, singer-songwriter fraternity, restraint is the song's key. And the band prove they can actually play their instruments rather than just screw the life out them. For once there's as much intelligence in the music as the lyrics.
'Live in a Hiding Place' is another injection of modest intelli-rock that pulls off sensibly and slowly, moving you to the point of self-reflection without having gone anywhere. "I return, but don't remain/I'm impatient for a reason to complain" Woomble rattles before choking out the chorus line, "thanks for nothings, that could add up to words/I think about meaning more as an afterword". Woomble's lyrics have rarely been so self-critical, but at times like this his honesty proves truly exhilarating.
When they return to familiar rock-punk, they do so with the aura of a band that knows they're unbeatable and a sound that retains a perfect gloss; painting over the cracks of humble error. The production prowess of studio knob twiddlers won't impress garage rock fans, of course, but there's something remarkable about such an unrestrained, raucous, and undoubtedly difficult, sound being kept so in check.
You can certainly hear the band's caged ferocity on 'Stay the Same' or 'A Modern Way of Letting Go' - arguably the album's two most revealing rock moments - which see Woomble stretching his husky tones to breaking point.
We're told 'The Remote Part' was shaped by the band's foray into North America. Indeed they already had a whole bunch of material recorded before their trip stateside and subsequently scrapped the lot on their return to home shores. Of course, with the likes of Slipknot and Incubus hogging the wall of noise niche, Idlewild were hardly likely to create huge waves by turning their instruments to 11 and announcing: "this next one's called 'Roseability'". A case of David vs Goliath's much bigger, stronger and smarter elder brother, Idlewild had no chance, so they adjusted their game plan. It's the same approach employed by REM in the early nineties, and yes, this time comparisons to the mid-life work of the Athens world-beaters is fully justified.
But the dynamic success of this record cannot be attributed to the band's peers, nor indeed, their newfound restraint, warmth or mocking wit. Instead, this record smacks of a band that has hit top form in every department. In this shape, Idlewild are truly unbeatable.
by Matt Thompson