From an American perspective, I kinda wish Delays got their start 10 years earlier-- true, their honeyglazed bliss-outs evoke Madchester without the drug use and don't sound a whole lot like the mid-90s, but their catalogue is well-suited for that fun time where rock radio appeared open to one-hit British wonders. The all-hook heir to "There She Goes" ("Hey Girl"), the heady disco rush of "Valentine", and even "Hooray" are the sort of songs with slam-dunk choruses that could move a million copies of Delays' deceptively consistent albums-- most of which would then immediately be found in used CD bins, a smaller percentage treasured by a loyal bunch of Anglophiles. Instead, it feels like they're reintroducing themselves with every album, and on Star Tiger Star Ariel, the strain to come on as strong as possible shows more than ever.
The fatal flaw of their previous album-- the overly saccharine Everything's the Rush-- was overstating their case as a pop band. Naturally then, Star Tiger goes in the opposite direction, overstating the case for Delays as a rock band. Of course, "rock" is used in a relative sense, and it's silly to deny a band the pleasures of playing louder than ever before. But the mashed drums and gunmetal guitar tones of their balls-out title track and riff-heavy "Shanghaied" don't mesh well with a band whose strength lies in feminizing its sound. Greg Gilbert's voice remains astonishing-- gritty in its lower registers, capable in falsetto-- and it gives Star Tiger its best moments. "May 45" might be atypically dark from a lyrical standpoint, vaguely evoking WWII and the debilitation of age, but as Gilbert's rangiest vocal, the chorus builds to the record's peak of rapture. Unsurprisingly, the climax is wordless.
Duncan Lewis, who produced the band's career peak, Faded Seaside Glamour, works the boards here but does so without maintaining that record's charming, hand-crafted sound. Where their debut was sun-kissed, the gleaming corporate rock production leaves too much of Star Tiger feeling over-baked and impersonal. The sequencing drives this point even further-- between the blindingly polished "Shanghaied" and "Unsung", the admittedly gushy "Rhapsody" and "May 45" hitch themselves to Gilbert's falsetto and soar. And while the gentle "Find a Home (New Forest Shaker)" initially sounds like a letdown as an opener, it sets the tone for what might have been a wiser direction from the band; for the first time in their career, their ballads hold up best.
