There were a number of things that struck us about Oceansize when they emerged from the figurative darkness, awkwardly, ginormously, magnificently over two years ago. They were loud, but never really oppressive, their sound was often omnipresent but also cautious, there was an exploratory nature to their performance. They could sound as big as a jumbo jet engine without just instinctively flattening their surroundings. There was a sense of wonder and from that, wide eyes and a set of vulnerable emotions. They could sound happily like the resident band at the weather-battered halfway house at the junction between the Deftones, Massive Attack and Elbow, they were like a spider’s web, beautifully slight, hiding a steely skeleton structure. And though they wavered along the fine line that divided sensible, modern, progressive heaviness and nu-metal they never fell onto the wrong side of the line, certainly not on record.
But little of that mystery or intrigue remains this time around. Nothing really needs unraveling. It feels like introductions are over, to an extent, and now it’s time for business. And that is a shame. Things feel more routine, and though they progress methodically and carefully in many instances – the amassing opening track, ‘The Charm Offensive’, for example, which begins dragging its leg noisily and ends in a jumble of on the boil guitar effects – but all too often feel like they were arrived at in too much haste, because the minutiae of the journey isn’t as clearly laid out.
There is some tenderness here, for you can forget there is amongst the more intent riff trading that characterizes the album. ‘Music For A Nurse’, a nod to the EP that preceded the record (its increased focus acting as more of a stepping stone between albums than we foresaw), is soft, expansive and flowing, almost Pink Floyd in its ‘Ok Computer’-ness. But it also stays in one gear. Not knowing exactly where they were going was always one of their biggest attractions. ‘No Tomorrow’ bursts open and shut pleasingly with a helping of grubby finesse, ‘A Homage To A Shame’ has an insistent urgency and ‘Meredith’ is relaxingly hypnotic. They are all fine songs with rigid blueprints, but lacking that sense of the unknown, that exploratory dynamic. Which possibly answers the question; if their birth was so intriguing, why do we feel such complacency for them in life?