Some Like It Hot

With Some Like It Hot, the UK's shadowiest group step into the bright lights for the first time. After a nostalgic, hazy start on Dean Blunt's World Music label, bar italia's third record for Matador feels like a group on the cusp of becoming "the greatest new guitar band."Whereas earlier efforts — 2023's entrancing Tracey Denim and unhinged The Twits — were murky and unstable, this is the first album where the songs feel like the trio could be performing them in a stadium. Decidedly hi-fi in its expansive galaxies of guitars and drums, the record sees sweeping piano waltzes peppered in between noise-rock gems, with mixed but always fascinating results.The band's fearlessness has never been more apparent. Nina Cristante's uncharacteristic snarls at the end of the absolutely biblical "I Make My Own Dust" cut through the aggro grind of Corgan-esque guitars and howling synths. While she had previously been the soothing voice of reason to balance out the sardonic sneers of the other two (Jezmi Tarik Fehmi and Sam Fenton), here, Cristante shrieks in blinding rage — and she does it again on the epic, hooky "rooster."Now, Fehmi's trademark pitchy yawn often settles into a baritone drawl, which is a far cry from his wonderfully abrasive yips and yowls on Tracey Denim. He's still got the goods, though; like on early single "Cowbella," when he spits through gritted teeth, "You'll always be the cancer / You'll always be the freak."The arrangement on the incredibly catchy "omni shambles" recalls Bloc Party's iconic "Banquet" call-and-response riff, but with a creeping dread in the constantly ramping rhythm section. However, the jaw-dropping moments on Some Like It Hot occur mostly when the band's multiple vocalists sing at the same time: the grand crescendos of "omni shambles," "rooster," and "Lioness" conjure a stratospheric scope bar italia have never hinted at before. Yes, Tracey Denim and The Twits are more cohesive, but this admitted maximalist sketchbook yields some of their wildest work yet.However, the prancing, piano-centric efforts here feel less certain. While the titular "Some Like It Hot" is a showstopper, the sleepy "bad reputation," "Plastered" and positively catatonic "the lady vanishes" are surprisingly formal, austere, stadium-rock soup — dreary songs that might've been better served by the band's rougher, foggier visions on past records.With everything in widescreen-definition stereoscope on Some Like It Hot, unfinished ideas and instrumentation feel especially exposed. "Plastered" comes across as a particularly confusing bit of twangy, delay-soaked Twin Peaks theme pastiche. With the urgency of early singles — the palm-mute punk of "Cowbella" and the sleazy fuzz of album opener "Fundraiser" —  it seems a misstep to mix in the brumous and baffling balladry.Many of the best songs on the record exist in a perpetual, explosive sprint — and the slower, stuporous tunes threaten to derail their momentum. The trio's swagger carries this album, as it always has: hearing Fenton reach into his wildest, bug-eyed range yet, preaching "Slice of life / Slice of life / I'm not happy 'til they've lost their mind," on "I Make My Own Dust," is nothing short of divine. It's on these fiery tracks that the band can properly let loose.As each vocal section veers between serene whispers and fuzzed-out fury, the grinding, gargantuan noise pop of Some Like It Hot is a new high point for the band. Mileage on the more pastoral, slow tunes may vary, but bar italia are now a band in flux: they've mastered the chaos, and here is their first, true attempt to merge the hypnagogic impulses of their early efforts with the choleric punk of their present.