Foals – Inhaler
“Indie rock, math rock, dance-punk.” How inauspicious.
[Video][Website]
[5.57]
Anthony Easton: The percussion on this is better than it has any right to be, and the vocals glide through some pretty competent guitar playing. It is also almost ambitious — not in the sense of novelty, but in the sense of being loud and bombastic in a way that suggests they know both their instruments and history. Plus, I love how they say “space.”
[9]
Alfred Soto: If neither their name nor song title inspire confidence, the boogie-metal churn does.
[6]
Jonathan Bogart: Sometimes I wish that modern interlocking-parts-and-whiny-singer indie bands would go for the punch and roar of the alt-rock of my youth. Then I hear them try.
[3]
Patrick St. Michel: Things looked bleak when the first line on “Inhaler” was the cliché-tastic “sticks and stones/may break my bones,” but even I didn’t expect Foals to define “creating tension” – something they’ve done very well in the past – as “sorta sway back and forth until the chorus, and then scream a little.”
[3]
Brad Shoup: They’ve got a playful, echoing groove going. Lead singer Yannis Philippakis’ vocals have the same thin languor as Poor Old Lu’s Scott Hunter. Combine those and you’ve got something between Muse (eh) and AWOLNATION (yay). I’d be surprised if it’s not soundtracking first-person shooter advertisements by the end of the year.
[6]
Will Adams: Wish it went off on a tangent from the post-chorus. The verses don’t have enough bump to make it danceable, and the lyrics are clunky — they throw sticks and stones in the first line, for God’s sake — but that post-chorus! Crunchy guitar stabs overlaid with vocals knowingly echoing on “space.” It’s a wonderful moment, as if the song is finally coming unhinged, but self-consciousness creeps in and the energy is reined in.
[5]
Edward Okulicz: If it wants to funk, the bass and guitars are more than halfway there, the guitars are trying hard and the vocals are nowhere near it. That is not to say that even the vocals don’t have their own appeal, it’s just that they don’t have the same inventiveness and propulsion that the rest has. But their gruff growling is effective lashing at the word “space” and harmless elsewhere, and the math-rock chug of the pre-chorus is plenty compelling. It’s schlocky but efficient.
[7]