Kasabian – “You’re In Love With A Psycho” Track Review
Kasabian are mouthy so-and-sos. Depending on your perspective, this is either their greatest attribute (affording the Leicester lads a lack of shame that allows them to make balls out guitar music) or a crippling weakness (inducing delusions of grandeur and blinding the band to their limitations). Unsurprisingly, the truth lies somewhere in between. When they are firing out arena unifying anthems the bravado is well earned, but some self-awareness and humility wouldn’t go amiss when they are indulging cringe worthy experiments or unleashing tedious lad rock on their hit and miss LPs.
Still, for better or worse, they aren’t going to change any time soon and the world certainly needs more honest-to-goodness rockstars and less apologetic indie darlings. So it should come as no surprise that the band’s return comes with a host of preposterous proclamations: their new album is about “saving guitar music from the abyss. Because it’s gone”. It goes without saying, of course, that they are the men destined to step in and save it.
The saviors of guitar music, like cocksure The 1975 before them, don’t go about redeeming the instrument with blazing riffs and bombastic hooks. Instead, Serge Pizarro has been listening to the Talking Heads and new single “You’re In Love With A Psycho” rides a soft and sensuous loop of sound. The guitars provide more of a wash than an assault and Tom’s vocals are gentle and endearing, contrasting the severity of the lyric sheet. He intones, “you’re in love with a psycho” with a smoothness that couldn’t be further removed from David Bryne’s stuttering, pent up angst.
Typically, the stumbling block with Kasabian is a leaden lack of subtlety. The music, on this occasion, is faultless (delicate, gently hypnotic and softly seductive); the lyrics vary from clunky to outright atrocious. Yet again recalling The 1975, Kasabian try far too hard to signpost their intellect in a way that feels forced and warrants the mocking cry of “psueds!” Even in these clumsy moments the band are at least novel. “Reciting Charles Bukowski I’ve got nothing to lose/I wait for you to follow me to share my chips”, is both cringe worthy and endearing. The similes however leave a lot to be desired: “I’m like the taste of macaroni on a sea food stick/you’ve got me switched on like an electric eel”.
It’s in moments like this that Kasabian’s ballsy bravado serves them well. I can believe that in their head these lines sound clever, cool, deep and funny – and if you squint hard enough they almost are (okay, not really). Mercifully, when Serge and co. are serving up an arrangement this charming and a hook so understated, but enjoyable, it’s easy to overlook their calamitous and crass moments. Sometimes, after all, it’s good to be preposterous..