They’re really the archetypal cult band, dEUS – talk of breakthrough with each passing release, since their mid-90s post-grunge inception, has always been and will always be far-fetched. They do just enough, actually they do plenty, to stay interesting, but only ever skirt unassumingly around the cusp of general accessibility. And if they have a problem, that is it. Always mid-way between interesting and accessible, rarely letting one or the other go the distance, they’re both reassuringly and frustratingly consistent. They write plenty of sweet little pop songs, but rarely play them as such. And while the Belgian indie mavericks have, over their 15 year history, covered enough bases to launch a concerted strike on the moon – counting as peers/influences the likes of Sparklehorse, Beck, Eels, Radiohead, Pavement, Captain Beefheart and Sonic Youth – the impression they often leave is of a fidgety Coldplay, which isn’t necessarily a dreadful thing, but seems a little wasteful considering and isn’t exactly the fuel you need for a lunar mission.
This has been especially true in recent times; their 2006 comeback wasn’t bereft of ideas but lacked momentum when swinging between them. Perhaps, then, they have spent the 2 years since its release bounding from pillar to post amid the confines of their imagination on that same line, building up a head of steam. Because ‘Vantage Point’ is, true to its title, positioned better than they have been for years, literally firing at the seams with surplus kinetic vibes.
‘Oh Your God’ is a blistering sermon straight out of the U2 ‘Zooropa’ stadium songbook, fitting bursts of delayed guitar cutting a channel for a modern paranoia stream of consciousness, punctuated by parachuting melodies. ‘Is A Robot’ and especially ‘The Architect’ are tight, mechanical and nearly emotionless arena-synth goth pop songs recalling Duran Duran and more recently perennially underrated 90s neo-proggers Mansun. It’s quite a switch, and one you might be right to treat with suspicion to begin with, but they do carry it off with a convincing boldness, which is one thing that often evades them. There is still a strong showing for their twinkling, ethereal brand of indie too – ‘Popular Culture’ being one of their most endearing harmonic jaunts to date with a real fire in its belly and ‘The Vanishing Of Maria Schneider’, featuring Elbow’s Guy Garvey, is a carefully textured stroll through an absorbing slow-motion world. Its an album that really unwinds with every listen, certainly one of their very best. Don’t go talking of breakthroughs though, let’s keep them to ourselves.