Ladytron dig the cold. I think we can safely say that, given the positively freezing temperatures found on their previous albums, and given the fact that they themselves feel rather icy on their recordings. I remember when I first listened to my sister’s copy of Light & Magic a good four years ago now and I was not particularly impressed. I could dance to it, and I liked to dance, but it felt so manufactured. Forget Blackout, Ladytron’s first two albums have all the personality of McDonalds furniture.
Which made Witching Hour such a surprise. Not organic by any stretch of the word, it still managed to humanise a band that to me seemed utterly content to simply hide behind LCD screens. And more than that, it was just good. The songwriting had matured to the nth degree, and Marnie had never sounded more engaged, but still detatched. I adored it, and I still do. Destroy Everything You Touch is my most played track on my mp3 player, that just about says it all.
Why is this important? Because it contextualises the hopes I had for Velocifero, especially after listening to the Harmonium Sessions EP, where Ladytron ditched the electronica and went analogue on us. It was far from perfect but it added a spark, and I was hoping they’d consider making such a move on their next full-length. I feel rather let down; not only have they kept the knobs & dials but they’ve actually regressed from the emotional high notes found on their last album.
Instead of songs about guaranteed loneliness we’re given songs about false apologies. And it’s not that Velocifero feels in any way false; guys like Vicarious Bliss do good work and have managed to extract a pop aspect from Ladytron’s sound that’s always been there but never been this prominent. Unlike Light & Magic, from the opening bars of the opening track I wanted to dance along. But that’s all; I didn’t want to listen to it when I was alone at night catching the train at home. Or when I’d just failed my most recent assessment. Or when my girlfriend broke up with me. (That last one didn’t actually happen, I’m irresistible.)
The songwriting is still for the most part stellar. Predict The Day has a wonderful build that goes throughout the songs entirety, and songs like Runaway prove that the band still has a knack for making vocal hooks stick in your head. (Even if it could simply be thanks to the sheer volume of repetition) But it’s not enough to do those things anymore, not when you’ve written an album that managed to straddle the line between intimate and downright cold so effortlessly. This time, Ladytron stuck to their winter wonderland. And it’s still nice, but sometimes I wish they’d take a summer vacation. Or at least end the season of illusions.
