Music Review: Foals

According to Foals’ latest album, Yannis Philipakkis is a bad-habit, animal-like-you, cowboy with a broken crown. Foals have been known to create mathematical, precocious music. And yet, with Holy Fire, they have managed to be immediately accessible to their listeners without losing the intellectualism that has come to define them.

Throughout the album, Philipakkis laments the tedium of contemporary urban life and longs for something more dynamic. On recent single “My Number” he proclaims: “I don’t need the city streets, the creed or the culture now.” On the near-perfect “Out of the Woods” he attempts to escape spaces in which he’s become over-familiar, though he’s seldom successful. His journeys are marred by repetition: “time keeps ticking, time keeps pushing, time keeps rolling on.” My favorite track, “Late Night,” repeatedly thrums a single static bass chord so as to underscore Philipakkis’ paralysis. The song gradually builds emotion and becomes more violent before its final angst-driven guitar solo.

Though Philipakkis never fully leaves the city, never fully becomes a “cowboy with a broken crown,” he begins to notice elements of the natural world even within his London surroundings. He finds the openness he’d been searching for in the closing track, “Moon”: its lyric-less, keyboard-heavy opening has the delicate touch of moonlight through glass. It sounds like the type of song that Foals has been working toward for a while, having lost the claustrophobia of the album’s earlier tracks “Inhaler” and “Bad Habit.”

Much of the album’s magnetism stems from the performances of drummer Jack Bevan. “Providence” would not be nearly as explosive without his energy, and the cohesion of the many threads of “Stepson” depend on his drum-line. His presence is noticeable in every track and is just one example of how the instrumentalists of Foals are no longer content to hide in Philipakkis’ shadow. Opening instrumental track, “Prelude,” offers a rare opportunity to hear Foals’ instrumentals without the distraction of Philipakkis’ stunning vocals. It’s one of many tracks on Holy Fire that illustrate that Foals isn’t a one man show.

No track on the album is as immediately breathtaking as 2010’s “Spanish Sahara,” but each has its own force. While each song is distinct, subtle motifs recur throughout Holy Fire and lend it an unlikely unity. By moving away from the mathematical obscurity of their previous two albums, Holy Fire could push Foals into international arena tours. It is an album that is entertaining, accessible, smart and, on the whole, deeply moving.