The music itself remains unique, and Shikari leaders in a field of one. The creative fireworks inside them still burst with imagination, as ever not just adding beats and bloops to rock, but seeing just what can be done with the whole enterprise.
Dead In The Water’s chorus explodes off a clipped beat. On i can’t keep my hands clean, the glitches add to the panicked discordance of violent, Dillinger-ish hardcore, while it’s OK has an almost Oasis-ish chorus (squint, hard), and the opening title-track arrives like Faithless’ Insomnia with a massive nu-metal riff on top. And, actually, it’s all very uplifting.
Where the doubting undercurrent lies is in Rou’s lyrics. ‘Be self-made and infected / Off-grid, disconnected / The individual with no power,’ he almost mocks of the way the online has locked people off from proper connection in the opener titled to encourage a move toward the communal, rather than the lone. On Find Out The Hard Way, he finds himself, ‘Sat in a mushroom cloud,’ asking those who enabled it, ‘Did you make your father proud?’ ‘When everything is dead and gone,’ he snarks, ‘Would you consider that you might’ve been wrong?’
Such fears and cautionary tales aren’t new, but there’s a despair, a sense of uphill struggle to stem the flow of it all, that adds weight. On Dead In The Water, he imagines the final moments of a refugee drowning in the English Channel in a moment where Shikari have never sounded so haunting. The sarcastic it’s Ok, meanwhile, stares open-mouthed at top-level greed and Armageddon preparation by the rich. ‘You too can escape the world’s problems, ’cause fixing them’s a fool’s game,’ Rou seethes. ‘Just hoard wealth, insulate yourself, and no-one else. Like some kind of twisted naked mole rat.’