Kasabian – Empire

Practicing truth in advertising, U.K. rockers Kasabian move away from the revolutionary sleeve art that graced their debut and onto something more ornate for their elaborate follow-up album, Empire. Attacking the sophomore jinx head-on, Empire tries hard to be urgent, epic, and important, and the grand mishmash of influences -- the Chemical Brothers, Primal Scream, the Beatles, and the Rolling Stones -- is delivered with all the conviction and swagger one desire’s from the scruffy crew with the Oasis-sized ego. Adding to this jumble are Sweet, Slade, and Ian Brown, who are all equally responsible for the opening title cut. Glammed-up rebel music, "Empire" is a satisfying, busy rocker that gives way to the interesting rave-up "Shoot the Runner," which would be very T. Rex if it wasn't for the Euro-disco Giorgio Moroder-styled bridge. From here 'til the album's final stretch, twists, turns, and time changes are in abundance and imagination runs wild as Brit-pop smokes a hookah and sits on a multi-coloured toadstool. Lost in all this is the instantly grabbing song writing of Kasabian's debut, and to some extent, the band members themselves, who often seem to be riding this swirl instead of guiding it. They regain control right about "By My Side," a memorable, lush tune that suggests what it would sound like if James Bond film themes had proper B-sides. The winding "Stuntman" is as ambitious as anything else here but the pieces all fall into place for a change, and by the time the perfect, slowly developing closer "The Doberman" rolls around, this unapproachable effort has sort of explained itself and even seduced a little. Repeat listens help put things in place, and a familiarity with the band helps a lot, so go to their much more focused debut for the real punch, then come here when you want something bigger but not necessarily better.

Kasabian – Kasabian

Leicester-massive Kasabian are now stalwarts on the British music scene. Continuously playing live and releasing new tracks to generally warm reviews, it’s hard to imagine British Indie without them now. For many, 2009’s ‘West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum’ is the band’s pièce de résistance. And yeah, it’s bloody good. However, the band’s first album sounded so big, brash and balls-out it was hard to believe that these were musical debutantes. Indeed, perhaps making something that sounded that exciting couldn’t have come from any seasoned pro, only freshly stoned minds. Personally I think that this album has been a little bit forgotten about; and I’m about to remind you why that’s a mistake. Let’s go back…

In 2004 Indie Rock n Roll had finally emerged from a kind of dark transitional period in the new Millennia. In America The Strokes had remodelled New York cool for a new generation, and The Killers had just dropped the seminal ‘Hot Fuss’ adding some edgy electro vibes to the genre. Over in Blighty, The Libertines had released two delicious albums, and were now very Britishly trying to take all of the drugs in London and kill each other. But missing amongst all this was that band that you felt like you knew, the kind of lads you’d find in the pub on a weekend chucking change in the bandits and going quiet for Final Score. It harks back to a more Nineties ‘Madchester’ vibe, where musicians seemed more like one of lads who liked a bit of guitar and footy, that familiarity vibe. I mean, you could go for a beer with The Libertines, but it most likely would’ve gone a bit Class A and that’s not so conducive for banter, someone will get offended…

And here came Kasabian. Fresh from a farmhouse recording session (I use the term ‘fresh’ loosely) in an attempt to make sure the band sounded as tight as possible recording. It was that old-school gang mentality mixed with a cutting edge sound that was so refreshing – Liam Gallagher said of them ‘You’ve got some bollocks…A proper band!’. The reviews were cracking, there was a buzz. Although The NME praised the self-titled debut, they slipped in a slight by stating that ‘They seem like the sort of people who salivate over mid-80s football riot footage’. I never got the whole ‘hooligan’ references, just because they support their local team publicly, like many bands before them. Perhaps this more obvious laddishness had been chastised in music, in favour of a more Byron-esque romantic cool. I mean yeah some of the songs were a bit shouty, but the energy and that electric buzz, I mean that’s something we’d been missing in Britain. Think about it, in previous years we’d been so bored that Dido and David Gray had been Number 1. I mean for fucks sake – fucking David Gray!!! I will always choose riots over that.