With its stomping, hypnotic rhythm and shouty vocals, my fifteen year-old self was pretty infatuated with The Whip’s first offering, “Trash”. If I remember rightly, it was the song that my myspace page irritated any visitors with for an entire year. It’s the kind of track that repetition really favours – layer upon layer come crashing in, building up to a euphoric, conclusion.

Five years on, the Greater Manchester-based trio have teamed up with highly acclaimed producer Jagz Kooner to release Wired Together, an album that sees less of the indie guitar riffs but a movement in a slicker, electro-centric direction. Songs like “Master of Ceremonies” have a floaty, dreamy vibe, featuring glistening synths reminiscent of Cut Copy or M83. It’s not all one big improvement though: “Metal Law” is lyrically a feeble and depressing version of The Rakes’ “Retreat” (“get up, go to work, do the gig, go to bed”). It obeys the same formula as “Trash” but doesn’t gather the same exciting momentum as the repetition grows tedious.

There’s something about this album that instantly feels dated, as though it’s been lying dusty and undiscovered amongst Klaxons and Trash Fashion records of the nu rave surge.  Destined for the empty dancefloors of grimy little clubs rather than the charts, the songs lack the infectious hook and hints of current music developments to seduce the public ear. The album is most successful when it sticks to the band’s original recipe rather than straying from it – “Keep or Delete” and “Shake” have the sweaty, foot stamping, jump-inducing sensation that The Whip were originally praised for. Where they’ve tried to forge a new sound and attempted to be recognised in the electronic dance sphere more than the indie, they come across as uninspired and dull.

Unfortunately Wired Together didn’t live up to the high expectations of my fist-pumping inner teen. The band comes frustratingly close to delivering a fresh new style but their original flair for energetic and anthemic tunes is lost beneath a concept that doesn’t do them any favours.

[2/5]

Felicity Martin