Kings Of The Rodeo: America Can Keep The Jonas Brothers.

As the ancient laws of indie dictate that by your fourth album it must be all skitty drum beats and leftfield electronica, it’s a hearty reassurance that the Kings Of Leon’s fourth-album ‘Only By The Night’ is a rock album cast in the classic style of widescreen reverb and hooks that immediately sound at home on the radio. It’s another confident volley at the big-time that comes hot on the heels of their previous album and looks set to push them further into the spotlight. Granted, their success in Blighty is hugely disproportionate to their relative anonymity across the pond, but it’s always been Britain’s unspoken duty to nurture great American acts during the vital early years before their homeland wises up and propels them into the stratosphere (Nirvana, Bill Hicks, Hendrix, The Pixies, The Strokes, The White Stripes, etc etczzzzzzzzz).

More atmospheric than the punch up at a ho-down sound of their first album and its rawer, more sexed-up successor, ‘OBTN’ cements the sound of Kings 2.0. To some, their transition from bearded preacher’s sons to priapic stadium rock gods appeared to have materialised in little under a year, culminating in a triumphant headline set at Glastonbury after third album ‘Because Of The Times’ crashed through the doors of mainstream attention. It was in fact the culmination of fortunes slowly amassed over a succession of great singles as well as increasingly accomplished albums. Since a mountainous rise from their first humble releases in 2003, they now routinely cause legions to swoon and throbbing neon dollar signs to appear in biz-type eyes from over a hundred feet. Essentially, the Kings play rock n roll the same way that nymphomaniacs have sex – with zealous, single-minded and ferocious intensity. Wiser men than anyone manning CA towers have noted that, in terms of their inimitable sound and knack of blending fired-up shriek-rockers with ethereal slabs of blissed-out wonderance (both found by the barrel-load on ‘Charmer’ or ‘On Call’), the Kings Of Leon are very much the 21st century Pixies.

Having said that, one thing they definitely don’t have in common with The Pixies is their looks. Only doe-eyed frontman Caleb, pretty boy singer with the beautifully ugly voice, could have gotten away with a title like ‘Sex On Fire’. Nevertheless, it’s a rocked-out first single flush with barreling assurance that lustily kicks you up and down the stairs before popping your heart in its handbag and swaggering off into the sunset. In a further similarity to The Pixies, one of the band’s great assets is definitely the strength of their singer’s range. Fundamentally, it’s Caleb’s vocal tics and sonorant howls that make these songs so compelling, his delivery alternating between wailing like his pubes are alight and cooing like a dove on ecstasy. The first five tracks are a testament to the band’s prolific ability, firing off songs wired with as much attitude and sure-footed focus as ‘Closer’ and ’Crawl’, which fizz and whir like frayed electric wires writhing in a panic room. But it is ‘Use Somebody’ that commands the most attention, a widescreen ballad tailor-made for riding shotgun down Route 66 into a glorious sundown on the horizon. Or getting all weepy vulnerable at 3 in the morning after one too many crack canapés. Either way, it’s instantly familiar and a sure-fire second single, as thrilling and memorable as finding a winning lottery ticket inside a free chocolate éclair.

Whilst some have expressed surprise at the calibre of these songs coming barely a year after career highmark ‘Because Of The Times’, momentum is not sustained for the full course of the album. There are regrettable shades of Depeche Mode’s ‘I Just Can’t Get Enough’ to ‘Be Somebody’, until an impious bass riff struts in and it signs off with a squawk of feedback. Elsewhere, ‘Revelry’ and ‘17’ pass by as fairly unassuming makeweights. In comparison to songs like ‘Knocked Up’ and ‘Milk’, which smoulder with bruised and brooding defiance, ‘Notion’ and ‘I Want You’ seem a bit directionless, pootling along as aimlessly as an argument between two stoners fighting over the last Twix in an all-night garage before sputtering softly to a close.

Luckily everything falls into place just in time for final track ‘Cold Desert’, a teary-eyed slice of the band’s trademark hunkin’ chestiness and suddenly it’s all over bar the touring. A few more snotty rockers like the insolent ‘Charmer’ or the big country funk of ‘Holy Roller Novocaine’ could have made this one of the albums of the year but ‘OBTN’ is nevertheless the accomplished sound of a group learning, tweaking and daring to move forward. Ultimately, The Kings keep things interesting by keeping it simple, pairing down their noise with the convincing assertion that, handled correctly, less is definitely more. Like all the best things in life, ‘OBTN’ makes you feel warm, fuzzy and slightly nauseous. Meanwhile, the Followill boys continue to march onwards and upwards.