Album Review :: The Voyeurs - Rhubarb Rhubarb

The Voyeurs

Rhubarb Rhubarb

November 10 2014 (Heavenly Recordings)

8/10

Words: Leanne Crowley

The Voyeurs - formally known as Charlie Boyer The Voyeurs - have returned after a somewhat lengthy absence with the release of their second full-length LP. Named after an old English theatrical device used to generate sound on stage, 'Rhubarb Rhubarb' is a ten-track offering from the London quintet, and what becomes clear very early on is that while the name may have changed, the sound, if not the songs, remains the same.

There's plenty of poppy psych spread across the record from opener ‘Train To Minsk' that builds slowly before exploding with a raw drum beat, swirling electronics and repeated guitar riffs to first single release ‘Stunners', which offers prime Voyeurs:  upbeat, catchy rhythm that interweaves a somewhat complicated mash of musical elements with the middle swirl section being very psychedelic in its composition.

The use of an old lyric - taken from their debut song ‘Ducks' - on ‘Say You Love Him (And Choke)' again harks back to their roots. The lyric theme around domestic violence on ‘Pete the Pugilist', is in contrast to its musical partner; a haunting piece with plucked opening in a minor key, repetitive guitar riffs and the work of Ross Kristian on keyboards all lend a style of their own.  ‘The Smiling Loon', on the other hand, takes on the role of the clubber, bleary-eyed at dawn, against the guitar prowess of Boyer himself and Sam Davies that screech their way unashamedly between loud and harmonious alternating chords.

‘England Sings Rhubarb Rhubarb' and title track ‘Rhubarb Rhubarb' (can you see what they've done there?) display a mellower beginning with a piano sound, but as the names suggest the noise levels build and in places become almost manic. Drums are particularly prominent and Samir Eskanda takes pride in the precision of his pummeling sticks work. The pairing of tracks is clever within the compilation of the album and the abrupt ending signs off this chapter neatly. ‘Damp Walls' offers more of the same, with an intensity that races to the end,  ‘May Will You Stop' is the love song of the album, with a crooning guitar and almost feels out of character, yet somehow they pull it off.

'Rhubarb Rhubarb' feels markedly different to its predecessor, last year's 'Clarietta'. Moving seamlessly between the soothing and mellow, and the intense and seemingly manic and disorganised, it touches on a darker side at times, something that was absent on the glam stomp first outing of the band, but there's still enough fun present to make this an enjoyable follow-up.