Twin Atlantic: Power review – Soaring Scot-rockers' smooth synth detour
As the charts bristle with elliptical trap chants and the patchwork motifs of too-cool-for-choruses pop, your best bet for big, euphoric melodies now seems to be the world of sweat-drenched, leather-jacketed, sleeve-tattooed rock. Twin Atlantic are notably capable purveyors of that kind of impassioned and uncomplicated anthemic rush – just try to remain unmoved in the face of their scuzzily saccharine 2014 hit Heart and Soul. In fact, the only thing about the trio that doesn’t feel expressly engineered for moshpit ecstasy is frontman Sam McTrusty’s thick Scottish accent, which reorientates the band’s soaring hooks against grey Glasgow skies.
Initially, Twin Atlantic’s way with a sugar-hit chorus was offset by a relatively abrasive sound – their first album combined convulsive math-rock guitars with gruffly elegiac Biffy Clyro-style vocals. Over the years, however, they have steadily edged towards a more polished mode, layering up arena-rumbling noise and nodding to hair metal bombast. On their fifth album, they embrace the pomp and posturing of 1980s synth-pop: snares reverberate across rooms, vocals transmit breathy melodrama, synth-lines chime imperiously.
The results of this stylistic shift are often entertainingly novel, if rather full-on. On opener Oh! Euphoria!, the band merge their gravelly sound with new romantic camp, and end up something like an industrial Duran Duran. Novocaine stacks muttered asides and echoey, sports-announcer bellows atop a fey and wistful synth riff, while Volcano’s dark, Depeche Mode-indebted intro is soon overtaken by a bizarre mix of gospel and pleasingly crunchy nu-metal. Two interludes – one of ear-splitting distortion and another of diaphanous piano – offer more proof that the band are itching to experiment outside their stadium-ready sound. But Power can also feel trite: its makers are clearly unwilling to shed any of their hyper-accessibility, and the slew of interesting quirks sometimes wilt behind headache-inducing catchiness. Barcelona – a lyrically dense and strange track with grinding guitar sounds that gets swamped halfway through by a mindlessly basic chorus – is the worst offender. Twin Atlantic are a band with plenty of ideas and plenty of hooks – Power, for all its lovable energy and admirable experimentation, occasionally suffers from an excess of both.
