You Am I - You Am I

Thu 4th Nov, 2010 in Music Reviews

Signed to an independent label for the first time since their late 90s heyday and making album number nine their first self-titled record, You Am I give every sign of being ready for a reinvention. You Am I might be more tentative expansion than howled declaration, but the underlying desire for growth is unmistakeable. Continuing the move away from sweat and 60s garage that began on Dilettantes, You Am I takes its time, preferring an expansive brand of rock that pulls punches more than it lashes out.

Opener We Hardly Knew You is the album’s arc in miniature: a slow, smoky entrance, with Tim Rogers’ voice half-crooning a deceptively smart lyric; the rhythm section of bassist Andy Kent and drummer Russell Hopkinson slide in a subtle tension, with Davey Lane’s guitar flickering and stabbing at the edges with growing force, until the pressure builds, and Davey bares his teeth; an exhausted coda, and fade out. Paired with the weary and uncertain Kicking The Balustrade, the openers establish an undertone of longing that will dog the album to its end.

At the midpoint, The Ocean snarls and swaggers, as Tim intones, “I need to feel alive” with a listless energy in stark contrast to the desperate lyric. Its riff, a dirty stomp on downers, has the flavour of early You Am I, but feels sluggish and only intermittently hits its mark. The trebly propulsion of Pinpricks finds a sharper edge, charging ahead with a youthful vigour tempered by the harder longing to “feel once again”.

In an album where certainty is a tough thing to come by, Let’s Not Get Famous finds Tim offering a winking resignation in the dying moments. Its a wry but nonetheless heavy-hearted reflection on the strange nature of fame. Sparsely arranged and softly sung, Tim asks himself tough questions about the harder side of fame, before offering a wry smile and sighing “let’s not get famous…yet”.

The louder numbers can’t quite disguise the sense of unease that permeates You Am I and as a result, the implied reinvention of a self-titled album feels a little premature. There’s a gap between the desire to find a new energy and the band’s ability to actually achieve it. Though it makes the listening experience slightly frustrating, it’s inspiring to see them fighting to grow as a band. So long as they have that desire for progress, You Am I will continue to be one of Australia’s most impressive and influential bands.