Kings of Leon
Only By the Night
Light in the Attic
By Mike Randall
Like any band, Kings of Leon has openly and not surprisingly stated how they’d like to get better with each release. Now four records in, they’ve clearly held true to that sentiment and not only gotten better, but comfortably transitioned into having the kind of arena sound and style necessary to fill the stadiums they play in Europe and to hold their own on the trail of U2 and Pearl Jam. With Only By the Night, one gets the sense of a band that’s been reaching and reaching and finally able to clutch at what they’ve been going for all along – a big sound that somehow remains true to their humid garage roots. The edginess and freewheeling boogie of earlier albums has been sanded down, but a roughness and vulnerability remains through greater experimentation with new sounds and textures, resulting in a more heartfelt and hopeful record that is dripping with their unmistakable brand of Nashville soul.
Following up 2007’s darker Because of the Times, Only By the Night comes off like a ray of sunshine – albeit one that’s distorted by a cover of clouds. The former began the path toward a more polished sound, but for the most part it didn’t have Caleb Followill singing about being in love or away from love, as he does this time out. His voice is more powerful than it’s ever been, like he’s singing his heart away in a massive empty arena, and even though his outlook is brighter, the more futile he is the better he sounds. His show-stealing moment comes during “Use Somebody,” as the loneliness of being far from home sets in and the desperation is all over his anxiety-ridden voice. With a soaring, building U2-style chorus, backing harmonies and Nathan Followill’s ringing guitar, Caleb is on his knees pleading, “I can use somebody, someone like you.” His sense of unworthiness is apparent several times on the record, especially during “Be Somebody,” when he sings, “Given the chance I wanna be somebody” over a tumbling drum groove. He’s feeling low again during the trippy finale “Cold Desert,” which finds him referencing “Long Black Veil” (“Nobody knows, nobody sees…”) in the wake of a descending “Purple Rain”-like outro that fades in and out, but not before spewing lines like “Jesus never loved me/No one ever carried my load.”
Despite staying true to their roots on songs like the amped-up garage rock of “Crawl,” or the sweaty, drippy romp that is “Sex On Fire,” the Followill’s for the most part are pushing buttons and stepping pedals they never have before. The heavy groove of the album-opening “Closer” is the best example, as Caleb raps about a lovesick vampire above slick electro-funk reminiscent of Pearl Jam’s “You Are.” Aside from guitar atmospherics, bassist Jared Followill steps more into the forefront, delivering slithery lines on the cerebral, uplifting “Manhattan” (a Kings of Leon song about dancing and enjoying life?) and putting his proficiency on display next to ringing bell effects during an ode to a girl just below the age of legality, “17.” The band even unleashes some of the loosest, funkiest country-rock you’ll ever hear during the excellent “I Want You.”
Yes, it might seem strange to hear Kings of Leon deliver lines like “The time that we shared it was precious to me/All the while I was dreaming of revelry” and “What a night for a dance/You know I’m a dancing machine” (both from “Revelry”), but this band has never been tighter or more fierce. With a huge arena sound on “Notion,” they come off like a gang that’s unapologetic for getting to the level they’re at and don’t want to take any shit for where they’re planning to go. Why should they apologize? They just keep getting better and better.
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