There are two mainly clichéd problems with Rock music – 1.) bands have a tendency to retrace with unparalleled precision what has happened before and outpourings therefore tend to be both stale and highly unoriginal, and 2.) there still remains an antiquated idea that rock’n’roll frontmen have to be opinionated and the music slightly dangerous in order for it to be enjoyable. Those that don’t mind either can be glad that the Icarus Line return to appease them with largely formulaic music and an eleven year earnt reputation for being leather jacketed, whiskey and Coke guzzling hellraisers.

But though the press release is keen to inform that past situations have rattled this band and that they feel they haven’t really achieved all they are capable of, they haven’t fully harnessed this anger and turned it into a fierce, kicking, face-spitting bastard of a record, and instead the hangover of ‘Rocks’ era Primal Scream hangs long on ‘We Sick’, and then there’s the dirty American twang of ‘It’s Alright’. After that they morph into a grown up version of garage rockers The Datsuns on the unusually titled ‘Tina Turner’, which helps make ‘Wildlife’ seem a very tired record indeed. Solid yet unspectacular; Icarus Line should at least receive a goldstar for effort.

By Nathan Westley

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