Inspired by the classics, Working Men’s Club have made electronica perfect for today’s world on their second studio album.
After a tumultuous gestation, with three quarters of the band dispatched after one fine single (Bad Blood, back in early 2019), Working Men’s Club have settled into a rhythm of their own.
Bad Blood had its merits, but its generic indie rock sound was a far cry from the stonking debut album that followed in 2020, all gigantic beats and electronica designed to be played loud. One of the albums of that year and several others. Yet its release was delayed by the pandemic.
As it turns out, the lockdowns have thus far defined Working Men’s Club. Shortly after their self-titled debut had been released, lead songwriter Syd Minskey-Sargeant started laying down ideas for album two. Like most creatives, Sargeant was influenced by his surroundings and circumstances but, locked in our own homes, he had little choice but to look inwards rather than out.
Fear Fear contains starkness that at points is overwhelmingly brutal, but is offset by ingenuity and maudlin gusto.
Opening track 19’s one-note bass drones hardly entice the listener in, but the hypnotic fizz of the drawn-out instrumental opening sustains interest, but the bouncing title-track lifts the mood somewhat.
Lyrically, Sargeant states that the title covers the anxious mood of the nation, and indeed his cynical snarl (‘la la la, ha ha ha, run run run with your piss-filled guns’) conveys that admirably, but the steel drum conga beat and wailing sirens are of chirpier kin, at least to a point.
The fuzzy bass of warped lead single Widow belies a bruised vocal from Sargeant, while Heart Attack recalls the synth Gods of the 1980s, most specifically Pet Shop Boys and their magnum opus Actually, right down to his deadpan delivery. Indeed, Sargeant strikes a perfect vocal balance between Neil Tennant and the stream of consciousness, matter-of-fact delivery of Karl Hyde from Underworld.
And Sargeant knows his electronica: Ploys is unashamedly Hacienda-influenced, almost as if he and his group are playing on the rooftop of the famous building while the club continues underneath, even down to some New Order keys and Sumner-esque lyrics (‘When we talk of the times we talk in the past tense’).
Moving forward a few years, Rapture is built on some XTRMNTR jagged riffs but with a lo-fi beat, a collusion of sounds that initially feels off-colour but somehow works in unison, while Circumference is pure reaching-for-the-sky dance joy.
It feels churlish to make so many comparisons (and one can only imagine Sargeant’s frustrations when he reads reviews like this) but such is the nature of electronic music in 2022 – and who better to crib from than the cream of the crop, and the original godfathers?
Next single Cut owes a huge debt to Kraftwerk in its motorik beat and sprightly, elegant synths, with added rhythmic bass which may clock in at nearly 7 minutes but is hugely engrossing and time well spent.
Fear Fear is a cauldron of ideas and controlled chaos which accurately soundtracks this particular moment in time.
The appetite for hedonism has never been so large, but sadly Working Men’s Club know, deep down, that the bad times aren’t over but are determined to find the light beyond the all-purveying darkness, somehow.
