The fact that 'Made In The Dark', a dazzling gem of a record, is only Hot Chip's third album, is surprising in itself, such has been their recent ubiquity with numerous remixes for the likes of Amy Winehouse and Jamie Lidell, MTV-blanketed singles (yes 'Over And Over', we mean you) and a Mercury Award nomination. Going purely on the strength of their studio long-players however, their progression from the Prince-obsessed awkward-white-boy (and unashamedly so) electronic funk of 'Coming On Strong' to 2006's markedly more successful 'The Warning' has been less of a gradual development and more a radical blossoming.
Whereas 'Coming On Strong', as its' title possibly acknowledged, raised its' pop eyebrow a bit too archly, the acclaimed follow-up captured the combination of detachment, euphoria, frailty and tunes so well that now everyone from the style press to The Wire are clamoring to herald Hot Chip’s return. They're the "LCD Soundsystem for 2008!", apparently. Such comparisons aren't wildly far off the mark, although on the first half of 'Made In The Dark' Hot Chip play with more abandon, less streamlined rigor, then James Murphy and co displayed on last year's multiple-poll topping 'Sound Of Silver'.
First mention must go to ‘Ready For The Floor’, arguably Hot Chip’s most perfect moment yet and a track that plays on the divide between self-awareness and sincerity, vulnerability and hedonism (the contrast between being “ready for a fall” and “ready for the floor” encapsulates Hot Chip so much better than all these words here there’s almost no point trying) in just three pop-friendly minutes. Its’ presence within the record’s opening quarter is crucial, linking as it does the album’s feet with it’s overreaching heart.
Opener 'Out At The Pictures' begins with a detuned organ, whose escalating tones give way to a drum machine and rave-referencing middle section that wouldn't sound out of place on one of the more radical Girls Aloud singles: superficially it's extremely chaotic, but it's only the frantic repetition of Alexis Taylor's vocals (which have never sounded better) that give this impression. It's this sense of chaos that dominates the
album's first-half, from 'Shake A Fist's schizophrenic mash-up of Kraftwerk, Todd Rundgren and queasy synths to 'Bendable Poseable', it's layered mix of guitar and metallic beats recalling the likes of The Knife and Battles (just without those groups’ austerity): for close to twenty minutes 'Made In The Dark' is one amazing party.
Yet despite this cavalcade of beats and colour the majority of the album is taken up with the sort of laidback, introspective, disarmingly intimate moments that Hot Chip first introduced on 'The Warning', and hinted at with ‘Ready For The Floor’. The likes of 'Boy From School' and 'Look After Me' proved to be the highlight on ‘The Warning’; while the presence of minimalist soul, American style pop-R n B (hear 'We're Looking For A Lot Of Love': Cody Chestnutt won't be having any sleepless nights, but it still sounds great) and even a centerpiece ballad (the lovely title track) aren't inherently surprising this time around, Hot Chip look to have sharpened their approach and by doing so met head-on the expectations of those enraptured first time around. Bar a return to the deadpan lyrical puns of the first record with 'Wrestlers' (which suggests Hot Chip are well versed in all things WWE), 'Made In The Dark' is essentially a soul record as opposed to out-and-out dance. It’s the wonderful sound of a band who are confident enough to play outside of their presumed strengths, whilst still leaving their own irrepressibly sardonic sonic identity stamped over everything they do.
Only on the dense, choppy house of ‘Hold On’ and the C64 glitch workout ‘Don’t Dance’ do Hot Chip return to anything approaching the overtly messy sound of the album’s first four tracks. The slower tracks in comparison inevitably sound like they lack scope, but filling the gaps in the audio, the great yawning silences where something should be happening, is something altogether more wonderful: a beating, emotive splendour that reaches a peak on the closing two tracks. While ‘Whistle For Will’ is a slight, piano-driven vocal that recalls the ‘Blade Runner’ soundtrack in its’ loneliness, ‘In The Privacy Of Our Love’ is a gentle ending, the slow-gospel styling bringing us gently back to the ground.
Though a sense of nostalgia and longing has always been inherent in dance music, Hot Chip are one of only a few acts in recent years who have had the audacity to grasp this notion and push it to the front, lyrics exposing a sadness whilst the genre-hopping music feeds off their influences and environment. Crying whilst dancing? They might well be onto something.
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