A Weekend In The City is Bloc Party’s second record, a cold robotic hangover dwelling in the shadow of their jerky debut
A Silent Alarm. Whereas their debut fused Gang Of Four’s jerky to brittle Joy Division melodies,
A Weekend In The City is a far more adventurous set, less likely to fill indie disco floors with its soft, forlorn approach to the post-punk formula but no worse for it.
Anyone who enjoyed
This Modern Love or
Bluest Light on the debut will find much to enjoy here, less so those who just liked Bloc Party for their crunchy up-tempo numbers such as
Helicopter.
A Weekend In The City is very much a rich and progressive record, some might say brave effort, from a band who earned such brownie points for their initial brash sound suddenly turning around and coming up with something completely far more substantial than mere three minute rock outs. The soundtrack of this album is comprised of a slowed down rhythm section, coupled with a wider interest in electronics which even seems to take in monastic sampling as well as loops and synthetic percussion.
This is a very downbeat, introspective collection of songs, ranging from the personal to the social, taking in the effects of drugs
On to the blues of a daily worker’s travel in
Waiting For the 7.18. Singer Kele Okereke has harnessed a skilful turn of voice, able to let even the seemingly naive lyric such as “East London is a vampire” resonate with more feeling than it really should. Utilising falsetto and more melodic turns than before, Bloc Party’s new more subdued take on their music lets Okereke really grow, his voice becoming part of the music itself, like on
Where Is Home? where his presence really adds to the song’s impact.
The band’s new stately pace lets these tracks glide from the speakers, even when wrapped in awkward electronic twitches as on
Hunting For Witches these are still hook laden little nuggets. Reflective and lyrical
A Weekend In The City maybe overall but it’s still laden with some up-tempo moments such as the sullen rocker
I Still Remember, but the album’s strength really lies in the cryptic, dense ruminations of slow burners like SRXT, which takes funeral Cure type hymns to a whole new level.
A surprising work of music from a band I’d previously placed firmly in the MOR indie ghetto land alongside any other number of robotic punk funks that deserve to be forgotten.
Out the 5th of February on Wichita Records.
www.blocparty.com 
