The Cooper Temple Clause - 'Kick Up The Fire & Let The Flames Break Loose' (Morning)
4/5
By: Toby L
Desperation hinted to via its unrelenting quest to incorporate so many ideas, sonics and - basically - annoying f**king noises that its coherence was left questioned, The Cooper Temple Clause's debut-LP 'See This Through & Leave' was regarded by many as a mish-mash of hopes, as opposed to an overall work. And that, as such, TCTC's lack of subtlety was the one, considerable obstacle needed to be overcome on any resultant second-LP.
By crikey, too - the Reading haircuts-on-legs have cracked it. The superfluous, colourful atmospherics remain, but - this time - in a far less obtrusive context, only at the sacrifice of raw, gritty heaviness. Successfully, the seediness of 'See...' remains in the pretentiously-titled 'Kick Up The Fire...', yet underpinned with a 'less is more' patronage that sees the sextet present, arguably, their best, most satisfyingly crafted compilation of songs to date.
And, oh, isn't it dark? The ten songs herein aren't so much mildly morbid as world-destructively demonic; perhaps the energies evoked via inter-band feuding during the reputed recording-sessions for the material? There does, after all, loiter a deathly tenseness and tautness to the overall proceedings suggestive of some deeply stringent undertones. But, whatever the trigger for such nervy commotions, it's this blazing, sombre trepidation that fuels the album's much maligned grandeur.
It begins innocently enough - a contemplative, only partially eerie 'The Same Mistakes' - but it's the crushing crash of 'Promises, Promises' that informs all of the awkward stance we're about to embark ourselves on - a sweltering, manic guitar-refrain capped off with singer Ben Gautrey's yells of 'IT'S GOT ME GOING INSIDE!' with all the good sense and refinement of a sober Bez. Whoa. What a rush.
Fortunately, it slows down. For quite some time, too - veering from the soothing keys of 'New Toys', to the build-up haunt-fest of 'Talking To A Brick Wall' ('I'm not quite how I should be,' Gautrey gravely states with worrying assurance). 'Blind Pilots', meanwhile, is the perfect combination - a potential single, with its chipper, hammering verse which erupts into The Coopers' most winning chorus yet, as synths shriek and drums crash. The nagging, electronica-cum-rock 'AIM' next, and we're sold - not even counting the twinkling, left-of-field paranoia of 'In Your Prime' and final, piano-laced 'Written Apology', which breaks out into an extensive knobs-twiddling noodle-fest.
Somehow, the conversion of TCTC from ferocious, precocious, yet inspired, tykes to all-round, pioneering rock-innovators fleetingly passed our consciousness. But, in spite of the swift graduation, you better believe their new-found status - as this diligent, challenging release is quite catastrophically one of the finest, most peculiar efforts assembled all year.
Artists in this article: The Cooper Temple Clause
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