An attention grabbing solo vocal from Anna Muchin kicks off I Won’t Let You Go before the track lurches deliciously into an early-Yeah Yeah Yeahs-like raucous indie-rocker, guitars barrelling forward, bass punctuating the background and drums speeding up your heartbeat (and foot tapping) accordingly,whilst her vocal leaps up into screeching, impassioned holler, repeating the title over and over with increasingly sinsiter determination. It’s a great opening track, and sets the bar high for the rest of this LP.
Cobson are, perhaps surprisingly, based in Belgium, they’ve been together since 2005, are here seem to be appropriating that kind of New York indie-rock sound that was so prevalent in the early 21st century (though to be fair, we’re still pretty early days there).
Second track Like A Bike Without Brakes is lively enough, but the twist has already been revealed as it were, and so feels a little unenergetic by comparison to the first track. No Comin Back is better, a sombre piano and acoustic guitar number, Muchin’s voice sweet and melancholy in amongst the increasingly heavily played instrumentation. It feels like more of an intention ‘lull’ than the second track, and a better way to dip the momentum.
This Is So Us is a lightweight, breezy and giddy number, Muchin sings the title with a carefree sense of joy, like floating over a happy memory. The Thing is a more aggressive number, remiscent of Land of Talk, who have a similar girl and two guys line-up and perform equally sultry, swaggering numbers. It’s a defiant and pained ode to the ‘wonder’ of discovering heartbreak, Muchin spitting out lyrics like; ‘Girl, you’re on the merry-go-round and it starts to turn/You touch the fire and it starts to hurt.’
Taking things back down a peg or two, into softer, jazzier territory is Quiet, Muchin’s voice a little cracked and broken, the guitar and drums of Lauren Bencharif and Camille Gaudou rising up in the background, building towards a spirited, upbeat finale. It’s followed by the steady, weary saunter of C8H11N, with Muchin chanting ‘Popping pills’ over and over like it were the cutest nursery rhyme. Spoiled Child has a skip in its step that’s probably closer to the likes of Florence & The Machine than the NY influences that populate the bulk of this LP.
This shift in direction continues on the piano led Downtown, it’s a delightful bittersweet tune ending with the sentiment ‘We’re kids again.’ So, it’s a little bit of a jolt when the band returns to its Yeah Yeah Yeahs-stylings on closing track Rubbish, Muchin’s voice now a Karen O-like bark, the guitars angular stabs and slashes, drums racing deliriously, it’s a fine tune – a little awkward at first – that builds to a screamingly dizzy crescendo as Muchin howls ‘Who do you think you are?’ and the instrumentation turns into a frenzied flurry behind her, rising and rising until it comes to a halt.
This is a record with two distinct flavours, and Cobson wear both well, there’s nothing revolutionary going on here, but for lively indie-rock and sweet alt-melancholy you’ll be hard pushed to find something better this year.
[Rating:4]
