2. ... Like Clockwork (2013)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DhaIb30mJiQ&list=PLozlBbCIaUbFnIzPZAJvq2Z55rqYk3QsK Like Clockwork has its detractors in numerous critics, and even a smattering of loyal Queens fans. Its understandable as to why its considered disappointing in certain contexts; it doesnt engage with the same balls-out viscera of their other career highlights. The fire of their early-noughties work is diminished, the exuberant energy reined in, and theres less of a crazed glint in Hommes songwriter eye. But none of this really matters, because in spite of these shifts in dynamic, Like Clockwork is QotSAs richest album to date, and their most rewarding to allow to flourish with repetition. It has the meatiest backstory and most integral creative history, it is the bands leanest and most concise album to date, and the emotional beats are layered so tightly that its positively revelatory. The biggest clue arises in the fact that, in spite of the impressive roster of guest contributors, Like Clockwork is decidedly Hommes record: a confessional, forthcoming, and musically taut sequence of songs which gel together fluidly. Above all, there is a clarity to Like Clockwork, which allows for the richest overall listening experience of the bands catalogue. What Homme and his bandmates attempted with this album is brave, uncompromising, and powerfully candid. Particularly in the closing two songs, Homme sounds like a man transformed by his recent experiences: a brush with a near-death experience, and a debilitating bout of depression and creative block. Perhaps as a direct result, his singing here is more earnest, his cadences more tortured, less cocksure, and the manner with which he does away with his sardonic shield and goes for broke is beguiling. Perhaps this alleged maturity is more apparent because it is borne from the back of Era Vulgaris, whose brash clutter sounds fun, but is ultimately devoid of direction. On Like Clockwork, Homme has more to say, more on his mind, and he articulates himself (and his musical mettle) with a revelatory profundity. And that is why Like Clockwork deserves to be commemorated. Highlight: I Appear Missing Atop the plaudits already bequeathed to its parent album, there is further room to call I Appear Missing one of Queens greatest ever recordings. To begin with, its major draw resides in its absolutely walloping groove, but after repeat listens (and with the context of Like Clockwork weighing heavily behind it), its emotional intensity boils to the surface. As one of the first songs Homme wrote while spiralling into hospital-confined depression, its startlingly revealing in its lyricism and delivery. The full six-minute version builds and builds to a climax of searing, awfully moving squalls, and Hommes voice takes on a cracked, utterly broken edge. The more one listens, the more his wails of I never loved anything until I loved you, circle heavily in the mind, attaining an indelible level of anguish never before offered by QotSAs music.
Michael Perry
Contributor
Film and Literature student, keen bloggist, and aficionado of most things music, film, and TV. I've also been told I should stop quoting pop-culture as often as I do in everyday conversations.
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