Dead Club City is the fourth studio album from Nothing But Thieves, the British alt-rock quintet hailing from Southend-On-Sea. Since signing with RCA records and debuting with their self-titled record in 2015, the band has gone from strength to strength, with each album re-inventing their sound and allowing the band to grow its dedicated fanbase.
Dead Club City simultaneously represents the band’s most accessible and ambitious project to date. The LP’s lead single and intro, Welcome to the DCC, acts as an advert for the band’s fictional dystopian private-members club that lends the record its name. When paired with the the imposing but largely desolate structures and scarlet sunset depicted on the album’s artwork, I expected this concept album to transport me to a new world, one not dissimilar to that of the radioactive ruins of Las Vegas where we first encounter the dishevelled version of Harrison Ford’s character in Blade Runner: 2049.
The record opens as it means to continue, with Welcome to the DCC, a synth-pop throwback with an exceptionally grand chorus. Whilst the opener could be critiqued as derivative of any number of illustrious artists who have shaped synth-funk prior to the single’s 2023 release, this would fail to acknowledge that this trailer for the fictional private member’s club intentionally prays on its prospective customer’s nostalgia in order to create a sense of allure. Also, the bass work on the post-chorus is excellent. At this juncture, a first-time listener would be well within their rights to get their hopes up that the rest of the record’s runtime will be used to add depth and texture to the promising concept introduced from the outset.
Alas, this is only partially true. The follow-up, Overcome, is a fairly standard feel-good pop-rock track that garners most of its merit from the impressive guitar solo on the bridge. Whilst there is nothing inherently wrong with the album’s second single, it disappoints by failing to build on the concept that the listener has been invited to enjoy. Nevertheless, the song is a particularly accessible listen, proving to be the most popular on the project to date. Tomorrow Is Closed marks a return to form, in no small part due to lead singer Conor Mason’s prolific ability to create melodic earworms that stick with the listener. The delicate delivery on the verses contrasted by his infectious energy on the chorus makes this song sound like something Gerard Cross would produce for MCR if he was having an uncharacteristically happy day.
Keeping You Around is a sleeper banger that follows the story of a romance destined to fail, with Mason lamenting his inability to hold the attention of his romantic interest. The softer instrumental affords the story and its delivery to take centre stage, to great effect. Mason’s talents prove to be up to the test once again as his vocal range is put on full display during the next track, City Haunts. Whilst this track doesn’t leave an enormous impression upon the listener, fans hungry for the band’s alt-rock style that dominated their early work ought to leave the experience at least partially satiated.
Do You Love Me Yet? closes out the already stellar first half of the record with another gem. Whilst the track spans just under five and a half minutes, it is far from a tedious listen. The lyrics provide a tasteful satire on the state of modern Hollywood, commenting on the incessant need for artists to re-capture the audience’s attention with wild antics to prevent them from falling from relevance, whilst toeing the line of what is publicly acceptable. Members Only follows, recounting a story almost the inverse of the previous track of someone outside the private club peering in enviously. Once again, the guitar work on the bridge is excellent and the hook is infectious.
Green Eyes :: Siena marks a large stylistic departure from the previous tracks, leaning towards a more stripped-back, ambient instrumental. Whilst it does feel a tad out of place in the wider context of the record, the poignant lyrics and tender delivery make for a solid standalone ballad. This is contrasted by the glamorous track that follows. Though not the most memorable song on the tracklist, Foreign Language has a pretty instrumental that provides a solid foundation for a pop-rock ballad.
If there is ever a notable dip in quality, it comes on the penultimate track, Talking To Myself, whose downtempo instrumental and uncharacteristically forgettable vocal performance seem to provide little more than an additional four minutes to the album’s runtime.
Thankfully, the outro, Pop The Balloon, picks up the slack left by the previous track and then some, closing the project out in the most unpredictable and exciting way possible. The track opens with some oddly haunting, effect-laden vocals, followed swiftly by the introduction of the distorted guitar riff and emphatic bass drums that go on to dominate the track. As abruptly as it began, the track comes to a near halt just two minutes in, allowing for a lull that slowly builds the energy before the track enters its third and final act. This final act delivers on this momentum, kicking off with the most momentous guitar solo on the entire record, followed by the return of the familiar emphatic drums and eerie vocals.
This outro provides a natural conclusion to the narrative of the Dead Club City, with its decadence and self-indulgence ultimately proving to be the root of its demise. With that being said, the album’s concept is hardly fleshed out throughout its runtime, with the various namedrops and nods towards its existence do little to improve the situation. As a result, the takeaway message of the record remains about as clear to the listener as that one water glass on all of our tables that is long overdue a wash.
Whilst the record highlights Nothing But Thieves’ versatility and ability to sonically reinvent themselves without a noticeable sacrifice to the quality of the music, the album over-promises and under-delivers conceptually, retracting from the overall enjoyment of the listening experience.
This album is solid, 7.5/10.
Theo Aveline 