On their Mercury Prize winning debut album ‘Backhand Deals’, Welsh band Buzzard Buzzard Buzzard were unafraid to wear a very retro heart on their sleeve. The bulk of its tunes took a very melodic approach and fused a great set of pop and rock influences on a record that occasionally sounded like a 90s band who’d discovered a bunch of old vinyl LPs from the 70s in their parents’ loft. Instantly familiar but always entertaining, it was the kind of guitar driven, melodic pop/rock collection that seemed destined to rival The Feeling’s brilliant ‘Twelve Stops Then Home’.

Then, somewhere between the promotion for that record and the recording of their follow up ‘Skinwalker’, they had a drastic rethink.

‘Skinwalker’ arguably presents the biggest change in a band’s style since Del Amitri cast aside the indie-ish jangle of their 1985 debut and replaced it with the slick, pretty much perfect adult pop-rock that shaped their sound on the brilliant ‘Waking Hours’. Gone are the big melodies that occasionally sounded like old Steve Harley and Cockney Rebel fare (‘Good Day’); the hazier pop sound that cut through ‘Yourself’ has no real place within the band’s approach in 2024, and the obvious power pop core of tunes like ‘Feel The Change!’ – which fell somewhere between Jellyfish and sound inspired by a harder edged Pilot – is all but absent. Taking on board the kind of things he actually enjoyed listening to, and by penning songs which explored the notion that “things aren’t necessarily okay”, songwriter Tom Rees embraces more of a realism here, for better or worse. Buzzard aren’t the band they were, but are still a great band on their own terms.

The thing that’s most striking about this album, at least on first listen, is how varied it actually is. In an age of short attention spans and with most indie-centric artists whacking their way exclusively through a set of jangly rockers or hard edged garage-based tunes, Buzzard seemingly have no interest in putting all of their musical eggs in the one basket. In a massive rejection of their previous, hugely loveable pop rock, Buzzard Buzzard Buzzard crank the volume, explore darker sonic textures and even appear unafraid to tease with massive 70s rock riffs.

At the album’s best, ‘Chew’ really amps up the rock elements, firstly by teasing with a massive twin lead, then by working a huge drum sound which works brilliantly against a soaring vocal. The vocal occasionally hints at the pop of before thanks to a great production job, but the harmonies are used very differently. There are moments of garage rock crashing very confidently here; there’s also a pinch of glam, and a whole world of aggressive pomp. The chorus is so busy that you might not even notice it on first listen; it just seems to grow naturally from the verse, but what is clear is that the rejuvenated Buzzard seem very confident in their new, but less shiny musical boots. Aiming for something equally big, ‘Therapy’ offers a world of fuzzy guitars set against a mechanised rhythm, but quickly shifts to something bigger than expected when a distorted bass lays down a massive groove. It sounds like Royal Blood playing something from The Cars’ comeback album ‘Move Like This’, but with hints of an aggressive take on OK-Go, but the should-be contrasting styles actually work brilliantly in unison, and a world of layered vocals – although a little buried in places – act as an extra melodic glue. This is clanky, rocky, and almost robotic at times, but by the time a distorted lead guitar and funky organ solo take centre stage, it’s very clear that it’s not only a brilliant track, but also shows that the rockier Buzzard can really hit a superb groove.

With a world of overdriven guitars and intermittent vocals, ‘My Star Sound Is A Bassett Hound’ has elements that make the band sound as if they’re about to go “full on Weezer”, but a higher toned vocal and a couple of complex guitar flourishes – coming a little closer to Muse – make things rather more interesting. In terms of immediacy, this is all about those riffs, with Buzzard throwing themselves squarely at a late 90s sound, but there are some very interesting melodic twists coming through the vocal. Listen carefully and you’ll discover a descending melody that sounds as if it could slide into The Beatles’ ‘Mean Mr. Mustard’, a layer of harmonies reminiscent of half forgotten indie/emo band Mother May I, and even a strangely perverse, childlike “nah-nah” moment. The fact that they’ve managed to wedge in a brief moment of glamminess that sounds like Bolan on steriods and an unexpected funk riff makes this a complex piece, but it works. And played loudly, it works even better. Injecting more melody, though without losing the rigidity of their rhythmic style, ‘Leatherbound’ is a huge 90s treat with Buzzard tapping into the kind of alt-rock that bands like Nada Surf and Flipp were delivering in the second half of that decade, but as with a few of the other songs here, they’ve not been shy in throwing in a couple of 70s flourishes along the way. There’s a brief moment where massive falsetto vocals fall somewhere between early Queen and Sparks and a strange rigidity to the basic melody that sounds like an extension of early Wire, which adds a defiant quirkiness that so many alt-rock revivalists wouldn’t have the musical chops to make work, but for those looking for more basic, distortion driven thrills, this has a chorus riff and instrumental section that comes at a speaker breaking volume, ensuring that everyone is happy. Well, everyone except for those who wanted ‘Backhand Deals II’…

Opting for something closer to post punk, ‘Human Condition’ doesn’t skimp on chopping guitar motifs or drum sound borrowed from early XTC, and these pointier elements of the track are guaranteed to attract fans of the style. In true Buzzard tradition, of course, those influences are only a small part of a massive soundscape, and this number teases with more pomp influenced backing vocals, a swathe of huge riffs where the band throw themselves head first into a world of 70s rock noise, and there’s even time for a lead guitar break that would be more at home on a late 60s blues rock LP. In terms of arrangement, this is absolutely batshit; it offers a twist around almost every corner, but never at the expense of a great song.

There are a few moments on this LP where the ghosts of earlier Buzzard influences bleed through the cracks, as with the pompy backing vocals on ‘Human Compression’, or the sharp acoustic riffs that cut through the centre of ‘In My Egg’, which don’t seem so far removed from a Steve Harley tune, or something buried within the Teenage Fanclub back catalogue. With regards to the latter, though, the huge, fuzzy guitars that swell during an emo meets power pop chorus make a love of early Weezer more than apparent. A natural fit with the bulk of the material here, it could become a fan favourite in time.

Adding more of a melody to a typically pointed rhythm, ‘Sugar Sandwich’ makes a bigger feature of the vocals by adding a huge harmony to an already overblown chorus hook. Not to be outdone, bridges between the verse and chorus flaunt absolutely chaotic moments of rock that rival The Who at their most bombastic, and a late arriving lead guitar solo hints at a metal-based influence, even though it doesn’t really fit. With a cheeky nod to the Stones en route, it’s clear that this is a number that plays for fun, making it the polar opposite to the downbeat and almost gothic ‘Drowning Bell’ where huge keyboard drones underscore a mumbled vocal. This could easily be a different band to that which offered ‘Chew’ just a short time earlier, but at the same time, there’s an arty quality to the slow burning piece which makes it work in the context of the album.

It’s first time listeners who have most to gain from ‘Skinwalker’, since they’ll have no real frame of reference. And maybe that’s Tom’s point. This needs to be listened to with an unbiased ear. This isn’t a record that’s taken a safe or gradual route to change – it’s effectively an almost complete factory reset. Jumping in with both feet, it’s basically as different from earlier Buzzard Buzzard Buzzard work as Radiohead’s polarising ‘Kid A’ had been from the much celebrated and far more accessible ‘The Bends’. Taken on face value, it’s full of superb moments. What it is, of course, is an album that’s true to itself – the material rarely panders to pre-conceptions, or sets the band any real boundaries, new or otherwise. It mightn’t be as uplifting as the brilliant ‘Backhand Deals’, but its very enjoyable in its own way – the kind of album that’ll set Buzzard Buzzard Buzzard on a different path, but one that deserves to bring them just as much success.

May/June 2024