Prefab rock’n’roll revivalism never hurt anyone. Especially not Temples, a British three-piece who have built their career crate-digging for the trippiest and most aggressively overstuffed ’70s psych-rock. Their third album, Hot Motion, is crafted more or less in the same vein as their previous two. A showing of studied musicianship and strong arrangements, Hot Motion is fuzzy to the touch and easy enough to imagine hearing in the background. Unfortunately, very little lies beneath the surface.
What makes Hot Motion weird is that it is the illusion of a psych-rock record; the melodies here are plucked right from pop songs, even more so than on past records. It’s Pink Floyd and Revolver in the streets, “Knights of Cydonia” in the sheets. Over time, the album reveals itself to be a subtle pop zombie. Take the spacey “It’s All Coming Out,” which follows the structure of a pop song, but just happens to have some weird, vaguely ’80s synth effects that resemble a scrapped MGMT demo. Lyrically, there’s not much to look at: Temples favor aesthetics and flashy production over memorable lines.
“The Howl,” probably the weakest cut on the record, toggles between sounding trippy and actually being a song by the Black Keys. The focus is on the hard-to-stomach snare sound, while the guitar is a jarring El Camino pastiche that sounds out of place on a record otherwise coated in paisley and velvet. The song attempts to be a rallying cry for an unspecified event, but in reality, it’s something you might tap your foot to in a loud bar. “You’re Either On Something” feigns drug-induced deepness while vintage-sounding synthesizers flicker in the background and guitar parts go the way of the baroque. The song sounds good in theory, but beauty and technique don’t count for much when the music lacks any semblance of individuality.
Temples are clearly skilled technicians; they probably could’ve produced this record in their sleep. What’s frustrating is that the project begins and ends at talent. These songs are hollow; you could listen to Hot Motion half a dozen times and feel nothing. What makes matters worse is that Temples have made three albums whose sound can more or less be distilled to “glamping while on ayahuasca.” Consistency can be admirable, but this is a bore.
Buy: Rough Trade
