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The Belair Lip Bombs shift discernibly towards something more ambitious and away from a mode which the band themselves had dubiously described as ‘Yearn core’.
It’s a bit of an unnecessary PSA, but The Belair Lip Bombs don’t come from Los Angeles, or even California, or even America.
The answer to the inevitable follow-up question is, as their own press release puts it, that they might be Australia’s best- kept secret.
A nice bit of projection then, but to fill in some of the blanks a quartet made up of former school mates Maisie Everett (lead vocals/guitar), Mike Bradvica (guitar), Jimmy Droughton (bass) and Daniel ‘Dev’ Devlin (drums), they come from the oceanside Melbourne suburb of Frankston and are now signed to Jack White’s Third Man label.
Everett was born in Scotland but switched hemispheres (presumably along with at least one adult) when she was three and is The Belair Lip Bombs’ main songwriter, adding a more circumspect counterpoint to their otherwise brimming indie rock with a capital ‘R’.
Again is their second album, following on from their looser jointed 2023 debut Lush Life. Co-produced with Nao Anzai (The Teskey Brothers) and Joe White (Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever), on it The Belair Lip Bombs shift discernibly towards something more ambitious and away from a mode which the band themselves had dubiously once described as ‘Yearn core’.
The temperature is certainly up on the opener Again And Again, a scrabbling, choppy riff throwing out light and life to words about a maybe relationship, Kat Mear’s raucous fiddle adding to a sense of carefree abandonment.
You can also hear in listening something of what must’ve caught their new boss’ ear, but equally there’s a back-to-basics groove underpinning Don’t Let Them Tell You (It’s Fair) that slaps a little in Keith Richards style.
Like the grizzled veteran himself, it’s a song about never second guessing anything even when your back is up against somebody’s wall.
Whilst that manifests some great instincts, Everett in private has always, she says, wanted to scratch a very different itch.
Of the piano led Burning Up origins she’s openly said: “We wanted so badly to write a song that had that late 90’s/early 00’s super hooky pop rock vibe…we failed. Maybe on the next record.”
It’s the kind of failure most bands would love, but if Again sometimes falls into the trap of rocking too much when it should chew things over and vice versa, at its core are some tunes which are determined to make now the right time.
These still come in astutely different packages however, closer Price Of A Man ruminates on the ugly phenomenon of toxic masculinity (‘He’ll love all the good girls/God help them if they ever talk back’) whilst pulling no punches musically, whilst Hey You straps them to an arena size rocket, the eager recipe missing only a sprig of Brandon Flowers.
There’s something very good here, even if to hear The Belair Lip Bombs talk they’re constantly guilty of trying to not overthink it.
Echoes of that uncertainty exhibit themselves despite the tight running time, with the awkward funk of Cinema never really managing to convince itself it deserves a shot.
When it lands though there’s plenty for everyone, Back Of My Hand’s dirt road boogie is well intended and delivered whilst Another World grabs their compatriots Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever by the hand and tells them to dance like the surfers are watching.
It doesn’t really matter where The Belair Lip Bombs come from because they play well enough to make you forget to ask.
Boldly out of step, Again is enough to convince you that their secrets are something you’ll want to share with everyone.
