Idlewild, The Remote Part (YMCA, Walthamstow, 99p)

To my understanding, Idlewild were only ever bit part players in the great scheme of British music in the late nineties and early noughties. Certainly, they had the misshapen ear of Steve Lamacq and swathes of the literate youth of the country, but they never really made a significant impact. Did they?

I suppose it's too soon to tell in a way. They've done enough to merit a best of album, 9 years since the release of their debut, Hope Is Important. That album was brought to my consciousness like so many others of the time: on a C90 tape made by a friend. It was the same tape that introduced me to the Pixies, if I recall, and that ended up with a burnt-out obsession and an undergraduate dissertation, but surely the less said of that the better. Idlewild's contribution from the latter end of the last century was heard in tracks like A Film For The Future, a Fugazi for the Penguin-paperback-clutching indie fan of the time; When I Argue I See Shapes, a melodic, punky blast that fit exactly into the Evening Session lineup of the time; more of the discordant but clean guitar lines and big chorus of Actually It's Darkness or Little Discourage from 2000's 100 Broken Windows. 

So far, so conventional. Roddy Woomble buried his reference-strewn lyrics under angular guitar lines ranging from Belle & Sebastian-esque indie-pop arpeggios to huge fuzzed choruses reminiscent of Smashing Pumpkins circa Siamese Dream or even peers like 3 Colours Red. That the Pixies were on the same tape is no coincidence: the stop/start, loud/soft style is very much in evidence here.

During their second album though, the band matured, as bands are wont to do; away from the teenage angst into more thoughtful territory; away from the Dischord-styled indie-punk to a sound that draws more from an older time. By the release of The Remote Part in 2002 the predominate influences coming through were the swirling, driving American indie of REM and the grandiose, articulate pop of Echo & The Bunnymen, or The Icicle Works. The record is heavily frontloaded with its three most successful singles, and kicks off with a definitive re-statement of purpose in You Held The World In Your Arms. It's a bold, dramatic song with its driving drum-track and striking string riff. The big dynamic shift in the chorus is still present but now it's heralded by a much slicker building up of excitement. The highlight of the album, for me, is the single American English. Alongside the musical development, the lyrics also mature here. The album themes itself on such: the loss of innocence and opportunity and youth to be replaced with what? 

Woomble et al retreated into their scarves with this album and focused a little less on the vagaries of twenty-something life, and a little more on the deeper, more poetic things of life. It's unusual for bands to raise themselves above lowest common denominator these days but Idlewild approach their music as literature: they're aiming for Camus or Brautigan where most bands aim for the verbosity of a YouTube comment. That's why it works so well as an album: little music today takes the time to be musically and lyrically coherent, but like REM before them, Idlewild are making actual albums, and growing with each one. The advertising campaign for OK Computer went along the lines of "remember albums?" Idlewild clearly do and the thoughtfulness is refreshing.