It's a little ironic that, while Underworld's mid-to-late-1990s albums have aged extraordinarily well, the band itself hasn't. They lost Darren Emerson to globetrotting, Ibiza-rocking DJ glory at the beginning of the decade and they haven't quite found their stride in the two (now three) albums since. This was perhaps inevitable: Karl Hyde's wild-eyed, front-of-the-mix personality always ensured that Underworld would age more like a rock band than an electronic act. (Witness how a touch of gray has bolstered the wisdom of folks like Carl Craig and the Chemical Brothers.)
My favorite song on Barking, "Diamond Jigsaw", talks about a white stretch limo and features "pre-mi-um te-qui-la" prominently in its chorus. It sounds cheesy, but it's fantastic: the world absolutely needs more songs about those nights when you're flush with cash and having a really good time. Moreover, Underworld is exactly the type of band to write these songs, because aside from aging like rock stars, they also got rich like rock stars. There are worse places to end up than "thoughtfully content headliners," and a recent, leaked live set/mix from the Privilege club in Ibiza proves that they can still transform their mid-level angst into thumping party-starters.
Barking doesn't contain nearly enough of these moments, but the ones it does contain feature the kind of backlit, uplifting anthem-making that Underworld have only occasionally dabbled in (think: "Rez" or, more recently, "Two Months Off"). It's a really good fit for the band. On "Scribble", Hyde sounds reconciled: "And it's okay/ You give me everything I need." The arrangement is bright and lithe. It features the same rush-rush-rush drum programming of heyday Underworld, but it doesn't feel like the song is trying slap you in the face; it feels like it's trying to make you drive your car a little faster. It's refreshing to listen to Underworld embrace small, personal thrills.
Hyde may well be the same drug-addled crazyman he was during the 1990s, but he doesn't sound like it anymore. "Grace" is a classic "the club...is dark and confusing"-track, but Hyde sounds like he's envious of Interpol's pathos, which, Jesus. "Louisiana", a slothful, album-ending ballad, immediately enters the competition for "worst ever Underworld song," so pale is Hyde's slurring. At different points on the album he talks about being "violently in love" and "quietly violent," but these sort of ominous dictums seem sapped of any real strength. It's weird to say, but Hyde just sounds so much better now when he's celebrating.
Barking inhabits an odd place: half-dolorous electro-pop, half-affirming sunnyside jams. You can attribute this to some of the help they had: Underworld farmed Barking's tracks out to various producers, and it shows. "Hamburg Hotel" contains hints of Appleblim's tense nighttime wandering, and Paul van Dyk is all over "Diamond Jigsaw". These "collaborations" seem like a better marketing tool than a musical one, however, as Barking's sonic variance is truthfully no greater than that of most Underworld albums.
Underworld receive a lot of credit for being a great albums band in a singles genre, but the lukewarm reception their last two albums received glossed over the fact that each has housed one or two great tracks. So Barking stays the course, with the added prospect of a fitter, happier Underworld on the horizon. It's about time.
