It’s something of a shock to learn this album is Idlewild’s eighth offering; a perfectly reasonable amount – they’ve been active for 24 years with only a short hiatus in the early part of this decade – so perhaps it’s because it feels like they should be in double figures by now.
They’ve outlived several trends and, based on this evidence, are clearly still going strong. Opener Dream Variations blows away any cobwebs that might be lurking in your cynicism (as good as Idlewild are, they aren’t particularly exciting) with agenda setting drums and harmonised vocals from a number of different tonsils. There’s no chorus as such, just a smattering of powerful verses that eventually gives way to a gentle, laconic coda reflecting on the nature of dreams.
There’s A Place For Everything serves as a reminder of how far Roddy Woomble’s voice has come. Far from the inner Billie Joe Armstrong he was channelling in the early days, here he delivers vox with a gravitas and confidence that can only come through experience. It’s still recognisably him, but there’s an assuredness that he once lacked. It’s quite high in the mix, which helps.
The title-track gives the entire band a workout. The bass holds the song together but guitarist Rod Jones provides a sense of scale on the verse before doing an about turn to squawk frantically. Again, there’s little in the way of a chorus save for a piano sequencing that appears intermittently. For the last two of its five minutes it’s basically a jam session, and it’s not hard to imagine the smiles in the studio.
In fact, that’s very much a pattern of the album; the songs are so packed that it’s more of a series of opuses. As you’ll have gathered, the trick of changing tack mid-song is frequently used, keeping the listener on their toes. It’s perhaps over-played one too many times; at 52 minutes it’s a bit overwhelming, but the whole thing has a joie de vivre that’s difficult to resist.
All These Words is classic Idlewild, positive, life-affirming music tempered by lyrical melancholia which then morphs into the more downtrodden You Wear It Second Hand. And so it goes on; Miracles is a burst of buzz-pop, offset by Mount Analogue which has an ear-worm of a verse before becoming a brass-led Primal Scream-esque beast. Familiar To Ignore, on the other hand, sounds like a spectral off-cut from Ryan Adams’ heart-breaking Love Is Hell albums before bursting into confrontational work.
Idlewild have outlived numerous fads, and it’s fair to say this is down to their timeless quality. Although they became briefly associated with the Travis/Starsailor acoustic rock that was mainstream on UK shores in the early part of this century, that was on the basis of one song (American English) when in reality they were always more upbeat and, ultimately, heavier.
Harking back to the well of their indie-punk roots with some liberal splashes of tenderness, Interview Music is the most fully rounded Idlewild record yet.