Pitchfork

Chris Martin can't leave rap alone-- the game needs Athlete. Not Athlete specifically, but it's tough to imagine a time when the world will be hurting for easier-to-license Coldplays or final straws (ahem) that let college freshman know that all those free NMEs in the music library have completely destroyed their ability to properly evaluate rock from the British Isles. Considering the likes of Athlete are as fungible as Denver Broncos running backs, it's probably not wise for them to be three albums deep and still trying to get in where they fit in.

At least the instrumental "In Between 2 States" is a pretty onramp for the rest of Beyond the Neighbourhood but it's hard for Athlete to be the stadium goliaths they see themselves as when their strongest track could pass for an Album Leaf B-side. "Airport Disco", more Terminal 5-D than Studio 54, has Joel Potts moaning "I want to take you home with me tonight" in a voice so bored that you'd think he was talking about a kitchen appliance. The most exciting sonic tweak is the booming hip-hop beat that begins "The Outsiders", and it lasts about a second before reverting back to an acoustic/drum machine lullaby with strained double-tracked vocals and a hook that manages to be simultaneously forced and aimless.

It's not really the melody of "The Outsiders" that sinks the song so much as the lyrical conceit "we are the outsiders," a sentiment of which these straightlaced chancers have no real concept. There's a sense of impotence that streaks through Beyond the Neighbourhood, with Potts wishing for the chance to fight Important Band fights but never evincing a desire to really work that hard for it. "This Is What I Sound Like" rambles in search of resonance, begging for some cause to align with before admitting "I'm not making any sense." "Hurricane" has echoey guitar licks that imply grandiosity in a Longwave sort of way, but it's spoiled by the literal moaning about disappearing coastlines and cod eco-concerns like "I don't wanna run/ I've been here since I was young/ Whoa this city day could be gone within the hour." It would certainly be to their benefit if they could cobble together platitudes or even melodies that stick, but they can't even do that right; "Tokyo" could be the most turgid song ever written about Godzilla for all we know.

Their last two records found them about six months behind the prevailing Brit trend, and that hasn't changed on Beyond The Neighbourhood. Like Simian Mobile Disco, they've become their own producers and professed their increased debt to electronic and dance music, but this shift has the completely opposite effect on Athlete, who sound like a band that believes David Gray's malnourished, defeated A New Day at Midnight remains the climax of singer/songwriter flirtation with technology. Without someone to bounce ideas with, they indiscriminately tack classy-sounding loops and keyboards onto songs that are even more hermetic and lifeless than before, and too many listens will likely result in a realization that our time on earth is indeed too short. Beyond the Neighbourhood is the sonic equivalent of a beautiful coffin.