Keane

Hopes and Fears (Interscope)
by Tim Den

In a musical landscape littered with lazy electroclash art wannabes who can’t play/sing to save their lives, indier-than-thou hacks, and pointless “noise constructors,” it’s no wonder Keane are a revelation. Gigantic melodies that could topple mountains, belted out by a vocalist who makes Chris Martin sound like William Hung (not a very hard feat, actually), reminding the masses what good fucking songs are capable of in the right hands. Glorious, motion picture soundtracks that engulf the senses and spit ’em out dazed. This, my friends, is the power of Hopes and Fears.

Can you really blame these three gentle British souls (piano, voice, drums, no git cuz they’re more imaginative than your cheesy eyeliner-wearing screamo shitband) for being so goddamn emotive? It’s not like they can help the monumental verses and choruses from pouring out. Would you call Queen over-dramatic? Of course not. It’s fucking Queen. When your heart produces something as anthemic and epic as “Somewhere Only We Know,” you go with it, for chrissakes. Open up your chest and deafen the world; leave mumbling lo-fi losers to wallow in their own obtuse, obscure nonsense. Cuz you’ve got a bigger picture in your songs: Technicolor scenes that render other, self-proclaimed “hip” singer/songwriters useless. Hopes and Fears is a declaration to the sky, every phrase and hook meant to tremble with blinding brightness, overcoming the dark cast by their less-talented peers. Go ahead, turn away if salvation is not what you want. Me? I have seen and heard the antidote to the poisonous garbage on the airwaves and tips of hipsters’ tongues… and its name is Keane.
(www.interscope.com)