In the 13 years since the Followill clan – brothers Caleb, Jared and Nathan, and cousin Matthew – first touched down in the UK amid a flurry of hair and hype, the quartet have gone on to be a planet-shagging behemoth, with all that that entails: model girlfriends, the kind of extracurricular activities that mere mortals can only dream of and a very public meltdown have all been ticked off with an almost casual ease.
Maturity and domestic stability sees them consolidate their position as an arena draw with this, their seventh album. Consequently, their lyrical outlook is internalised, though as evidenced by the rollicking Waste A Moment and the earworm that is Over, their ability to craft hook-laden numbers remains undiminished.
Alas, by front-loading the album with the kind of numbers U2 would be proud of – witness Reverend – Walls grinds to a halt in tedious balladry, rather than scaling new heights.
