Album Review: Bloc Party - Four

The hiatus following 2008's Intimacy may have allowed the quartet to indulge solo projects, but – brace yourself and lube up your ears! – Bloc Party's energies have been stymied nought. So He Begins To Line grinds out the gates with ferocious guitars. Second track 3x3 shifts into operatic goth-metal mode. Kele Okereke is on heat (again) and whilst the direction of his horny is the worst kept secret in rock, his thrust is more Rob Halford (Judas Priest) than Morrissey. ”Lying face down when I swing your way/What's my name?” he demands in Octopus. Why Kele, where's the champagne and chocolates? Looking for more of the fuzzy feelings you got the first time you heard I Still Remember back in '07? You won't get them on this album.

The most human offerings are The Healing and V.A.L.I.S which completely channels Bowie; Okereke contemplating the complexities of his own personality (“He's into philosophy/He's into methamphetamines/He's into science... He's not the real me”). He's still finding his place and not ready to settle down but whilst having a fifth (if you include his solo project) album under his belt at the age of 30, Okereke isn't 'maturing' into wank-rock just yet (cough MUSE cough).

Four is massive, just fucking huge in size and the band got value for money employing producer Alex Newport's services (At the Drive-In, The Mars Volta). You'll walk away invigorated from having the senses assaulted. But like a bout of intense, rough sex, it provides an awesome release which will be remembered, but probably won't mean that much in the long term.