It’s difficult to believe north Wales’ most celebrated alt-rock trio, alongside the Manic Street Preachers, released their sprawling debut album ‘The Big Roar’ over half a decade ago, where hypnotic vocals chimed with distortion laden guitar for a crescendo inducing embodiment of the expansive Welsh countryside which inspired its creation.
If follow-up LP ‘Wolf’s Law‘ stuttered somewhat in its delivery of a similarly engaging journey, aside from brief moments of arresting quality including the spellbinding melancholic tale of relationship strife in ‘Silent Treatment’ and the thrillingly ambitious near six-minute cacophonous wall of sound on ‘The Leopard and The Lung’, third outing for The Joy Formidable, ‘Hitch‘, attempts to deliver a cohesive statement of Led Zeppelin and Blodwyn Pig inspired blues tinged rock anthems, where a musically mature offering sees a range of rock sub-genres explored on an intrinsically diverse record.
Opener ‘A Second In White’ recalls the quiet-loud song structure of ‘The Big Roar’, with lead singer Ritzy Bryan’s increasingly lofty vocal delivery over rapid, brain rattling guitar chords and lyrics echoing heightened frustration with the song’s intended recipient. Despite clocking in at just under four minutes, the track is one of the shortest on the record, highlighting a rejuvenated freedom under their own C’mon Let’s Drift label to craft music entirely of their own inclination in spite of any potential monetary ideals.
‘Radio Of Lips’ represents a continuation of a theme. The melody-mimicking lead guitar intro platforms a staple structure of stripped-back emotion in the verse section before an orchestral layered build-up to a hurricane-style instrumental led refrain, fittingly including the snarling lyric, ‘the further I run, the faster you apologise’. Ghostly vocals and arpeggiated instrumental diversions in the bridge ensure a breathless take on unappreciative romance.
Endearing pre-take studio chuntering leads into an equally seductive Stone Roses esque running bassline and core riff on early single ‘The Last Thing On My Mind’, which will be remembered as much for the accompanying video’s timely readdressing of the sexual exploitation of women in music, acting as a liberating aural and visual rebuke to the conveyor belt of music videos appealing solely to heterosexual male desires.
Things take a more reflective turn in the initial sombre tones found on piano led ‘Liana’, incorporating hazy vocals alongside a sleepy melody, building to an unexpected awakening mid-track as the band channel their blues-rock heroes on the reverberating fuzz guitar interlude and lead guitar outro for an enthralling conclusion.
The jaunty, near-medieval sounds found on album highlight ‘The Brook’ astutely combine mandolin with slide guitar for an ethereal, pastoral enthused starry-eyed track harking back to the expansive landscape of both sentimental lyrics and soaring musical accompaniment at the root of the band’s early appeal.
The latter half of the album verges into increasingly experimental territory, seeing the grunge leanings of ‘Running Hands With The Night’ combining the familiar soaring chorus template interspersed with heavy guitar chords and a cantering rhythm section, underpinning sultry vocal whispers from Bryan throughout in showcasing the depth of influences on offer with this tribute to the 90’s riot grrrl movement.
Acoustic harmony resides on the equally delicately titled ‘Underneath The Petal’, with the light plucking of Rhydian Dafydd allowing for heightened focus on Bryan’s extensive vocal range. The bracingly pared back offset to the louder dynamics found on the remainder of the album continues with closer ‘Don’t Let Me Know’, signalling an increasingly flourishing setting for which to explore the band’s lyrical astuteness, which occasionally gets lost amidst their guitar heavy preference, as highlighted in the instrumental build-up before scraping echoes of guitar fleshes out the end point.
The Joy Formidable wear their influences more noticeably on their sleeves this time around. There is a sense of overwhelming freedom as a result of a creative process away from commercial paranoia found at bigger record labels. ‘Hitch’ will never be an instantaneously gratifying album, or one which will dominate radio airwaves for the foreseeable, but perhaps more importantly in a disposable era of music, it gives hope to the idea that the album format can still be appreciated by finding beauty in its rampant exploration.
Much like the roaming hills from where it was fashioned.