Shortly after the Rakes released their third album, Klang, in the U.S., the band announced its breakup and canceled the remaining shows of its tour. Their announcement came across as unceremonious and humble-- they revealed they'd promised themselves they'd quit if they couldn't give the band 100%. If the party was coming down, however, one couldn't tell from the sound of Klang. Their previous record, 2007's Ten New Messages, saw the band branch out from their then-fashionable post-punk guitar-rock into electronic textures and more topical lyrics, and the results were a little mixed. Here, the band returns to its comfort zone, for better or for worse. From the start of the record, it sounds mostly for the better: On opener "You're in It", singer Alan Donohoe veers from exaggerated crooning to desperate yelps, and while the music treads the same pattern, the guitar tone is drier and the rhythm section starts and stops in fits; the band sounds more nervous and urgent than before. "That's the Reason" follows with a breathless tempo and just a touch of chirping keyboards in a chorus that's relentlessly catchy.
While the Rakes have forgotten some of the better elements of their earlier records, the songs are still thankfully there. From the fast and smirking openers to liberal la-la-la's in the chorus of "1989" or the melodic bass thump of "The Light of Your Mac", Klang is a record of simple, memorable tunefulness. Lyrically, it comes across like the working-class perspective of their debut-- they're still writing what they know. "That's the Reason" weighs the pros and cons of leaving friends to chase after the unexpected, but hints that it's the search for something more lasting that has the narrator running off. They regain a good bit of the mania and charm of their early singles and debut, but Klang misses some of Donohoe's earlier eye for sharp detail that made that perspective more believable. "The Light of Your Mac" is a funny telling of a relatable situation, but among the hand-wringing and tiptoing around flatmates, the title is probably its most distinctive detail.
So this is-- or was-- the Rakes stripping down and kicking out the jams, as it were, by glossing over some things to be sure to deliver on others. The band's sonic palette is slightly wider, with acoustic guitars in the breakdown of "Shackleton" and an urgent piano march in "The Woes of the Working Woman". It's a shame the Rakes stopped just as they were starting to sound fun again, but if they had to end it while they still had that last spark of fun left, it's a better decision than most successful bands can bring themselves to make. A few outstanding singles is more than most bands can ask for-- maybe even more valuable than that is knowing when to end a good run.
