So what is The Duke Spirit’s problem? As much praise as we lavish on them – as we did with their debut and as we yet will with this, the follow up – we can’t shake the assertion that they have one. Look at their constituent parts; technically they’re a remarkable renegade retro rock ‘n’ roll treasure trove – gold plated to fuck. And speaking of which, they’re certainly built with that in mind too. Sleazy, hip-commanding momentums arrive track after track, draped in dirty distorted zing, guitars lashing amid a heavy, humid air of suggestion. They are a bloody sexy band who live largely in the heat of the moment, thanks in no small part to Leila Moss’ commanding stewardship. Her preened, breathy, siren-esque vocals don’t so much come from the heart – or at least not traditionally, more in the sense that the heart is solely responsible for pumping blood around your body and thrashing out the rate of your pulse. Attention grabbing certainly, but what about holding it?
‘Send A Little Love Token’ opens the album proper (following the uncharacteristically gospel, Jenny Lewis-esque ‘I Do Believe In Something’), all groaning guitars, bang-on 4/4 drums, unrelenting high-key piano entwining with its grubby surroundings and drawing in a sense of singed class and Moss’ chest-beating, extroverted cry, all heaped onboard as it piles persistently towards ordered climax. It’s a first-class construct, carried on through the bass-heavy hypnosis and eventual distorted drive of swaggering ‘The Step And The Walk’. We’re reminded of full-tilt BRMC or Pretty Girls Make Graves admonished of their tense anxiety but still rolling intensely.
As with the first record however the sound really remains too boxed in, tamed by the constraints of recording without true vision. We saw a handful of these tracks performed live prior to release and felt our eyebrows being virtually seared off by a frantic instrumental hubbub, an ever unfolding series of shocks vying for prime position and in constant danger of shorting out in a trail of sparks. Yet with their sophomore record they’re not really any closer to translating that urgent excitement across. Also, Leila’s vocals, while aesthetically pleasing and relentlessly gung-ho, still don’t carry anything of much consequence – in fact maybe her lyrics are even more directionless than on ‘Cuts Across The Land’ – which dulls the overall impact considering the pivotal role she plays.
When the album relies on its clean lines and gentle transactions it does tread tentatively forward. ‘My Sunken Treasure’ for instance, a mid-tempo husky Britpop Motown-style tribute, chimes deliciously, ‘Wooden Heart’ shimmers much the same and the psychedelic-shanty ‘Dog Roses’ benefits from clarity and is distinct of melody. But that’s a different, lighter Duke Spirit and on the flipside the likes of ‘You Really Wake Up The Love In Me’ and ‘Neptune’s Call’ –passionately promising a Queens Of The Stone Age-lite grind – are somewhat disabled by their tidy order, clean surfaces and lack of surprise. Don’t get us wrong, this is a great, rounded album formalising their pitch as a strong middle-distance indie band, but it doesn’t outrun the first record’s weaknesses and doesn’t deviate from the track enough to not make that an issue.