“I took a long hit on the pipe… and I felt my body slowly dissolve into digital dots” intones Irvine Welsh as Warmduscher’s latest record begins. That their fifth album begins with this surreal spoken-word tale does not feel in the least bit surprising. Their music has, after all, always felt a bit like a messy acid trip, full of debauched stories about the seedy underbelly of modern life.
Yet, if the start of Too Cold To Hold is faintly predictable, the rest of the album opens up into something rather more unexpected. The band have always weaved elements of hip-hop and jazz into their messed-up punk-funk but here they’ve refined it and pushed it forward. The sounds seem richer and more ambitious. What was once chaotic seems more artfully controlled. The band, dare we say it, feel like they’ve grown up a little?
Having previously worked with Dan Carey and Hot Chip’s Al Doyle and Joe Goddard, this is the first time they’ve self-produced. It has seemingly allowed them to lean more into their afrobeat-influences and expand their sound. They’re also bolstered by a surprising list of guest appearances. So while ‘Immaculate Deception’ begins with a story by Clams Baker over skittering guitar about a misunderstood holy man, it’s taken to another level by Jeshi’s impassioned rap over a psychedelic jazz freakout. And the kinetic, booming beats of ‘Cleopatras’ – in which Clams and Cou Cou Chloe tell a story of energy sucking aliens – hits harder than they have done before. The Lianne La Havas featuring ‘Body Shock’ even feels a little like XTRMNTR-era Primal Scream, as they sing the story of “the beautiful dance of the night time workers and seekers of the other side of life”.
That’s not to say they’ve left their grotty former selves behind. The woozy swagger of ‘Staying Alive’ and wiry, grizzled ‘Top Shelf’ are reminders that the observational absurdities and buzzing post punk guitars of the past remain.
So where does this leave Warmduscher? The dream-like lounge rock of ‘Pure At The Heart’ feels like it answers this question. The song sees Clams in a reflective mood, as he sings about being one of the few left on the floor when the club closes. Is the world, as Clams sings, “a rocking horse and it’s our turn to ride” or are there “no big schemes” tonight? When the lights come on and the music stops, what do we do? Is it time to go home? With Too Cold To Hold, Warmduscher have, five albums in, acknowledged they’re older and wiser – but these songs show that doesn’t mean the party has to stop.
