Tommy Forbes

In 2005, Bloc Party burst on to the UK’s burgeoning indie scene with the excellent Silent Alarm. Its thrilling combination of jagged Wire-esque guitars and barbed lyrics briefly made stars of the band and its acerbic singer Kele Okereke. More than ten years later, following a turbulent hiatus that saw half of the band’s original members depart, Bloc Party are back with a new album, a new rhythm section and a new sound.

Inspired by a Hanif Kureishi talk Okereke saw in London, Hymns is awash with religious imagery. In particular, the evangelical overtones present on 'Only He Can Heal Me' make for a stark change from the band’s seedy depictions of apathetic East London. Sonically, the band has evolved further away from the post-punk of their debut. 'Into the Earth' features the telling line “Rock and roll has got so old / Just give me neo-soul”. This is largely what the album delivers and while it is tempting to applaud original members Okereke and guitarist Russell Lissack for trying something different, it cannot be sensibly argued that Bloc Party 2.0 represents an improvement on the ancien régime.

The album opens with lead single 'The Love Within' and its infuriatingly bouncy synth riff, which somehow manages to be simultaneously overblown and monotonous. Fortunately, it does not set the tone for what follows it. The third track 'So Real', with plaintive lines like “What am I supposed to do / When the only good thing about me was you”, would have slotted in nicely on Silent Alarm. 'My True Name' is also a highlight; built around a spiky riff, the song features some of Okereke’s strongest ever vocals.

However, 'The Love Within aside', the problem with the rest of the album is not that it is awful. On the contrary, it is pleasant enough without ever being truly arresting. Regrettably, too much of Hymns feels laboured, and this is in no small part due to the fact that Lissack’s guitar playing has been effectively neutered. Where it was once the antagonistic driving force, it is now a mere passenger. Consequently, this allows perfectly good songs like 'Fortress' and 'Virtue' to be weighed down by either their subject matter or Okereke’s own lofty expectations.

Meanwhile, new bassist Justin Harris’s contributions are largely unremarkable, but former drummer Matt Tong’s absence is sorely felt. Without him the band feels blunt and, subsequently, at times Hymns sorely lacks momentum. Ultimately, it’s a shame that this album consists of many promising songs that plod their way towards predictable conclusions rather than igniting in a ball of frenetic energy.

Bloc Party’s biggest strength was that previous hits like 'Banquet' and 'Hunting For Witches' managed to impart the wisdom of a 21st-century pessimist within the confines of taut indie rock songs that never overstayed their welcome. This is not a strength that Okereke seems willing to play to, as Hymns confirms the suspicion that he never was a gifted lyricist. The album features some particularly jarring instances of clumsy wordplay such as “the fungi is helping this fun guy deliver” that do not mesh with the sombre atmosphere Bloc Party often tries to create.

While the album, with its religious themes and pleasant verses, makes for a decent Sunday morning playlist, I can’t shake the feeling that this is a missed opportunity. Hymns is, at best, a tentative reinvention.

On balance, this album is a reasonable addition to Bloc Party’s catalogue, but I doubt it will be lovingly recalled in ten years, and certainly not in the way Silent Alarm has been. Okereke himself earnestly remarks on 'Exes' that “these words will fall short but I must try” and this sums Hymns up perfectly. It is a good effort that ultimately falls short.