This is Kane bigger and louder than on his debut.
Miles Kane is the embodiment of rock'n'roll swagger, a spitting image of the classic '60s British beat music mod. He makes no secret of it, on a record that is brash and vibrant, loaded with braggadocio and unapologetic singalongs. This is Kane bigger and louder than on his debut, with the title track carrying wobbling riffs underneath a braying “la la la don't forget who you are”, alight with a surefootedness that seeps onto every song. Better Than That is a rock romp, Kane's Scouse accent yelling the title with a chorus of echoes, making it impossible not to tap your feet along.
There's something to be said about making an uncomplicated, fun record that melds charm and hooks into clever pop songs made for energetic dancing and crowds swelling to sing in unison. Take a tune like What Condition Am I In, which shines in its deceptive simplicity: subtle key changes, the universal theme of confused heartbreak, a breakdown mid-song that erupts into a bridge riff. It speaks to Kane's dexterity as composer and performer that the listener ingests these songs so easily, unaware that hooks have firmly sunk in and days worth of earworms are biding their time in the backs of their minds.
Kane's weakness lies in ballads, when he struggles to avoid maudlin and cliché, like Fire In Our Hearts. But it's a small flaw when there's songs like Give Up awaiting towards the end of the record, and you can let the sheer conviction in his voice and the barrage of melodic guitar buoy your spirits.