I'm Totally Fine With It Don't Give a Fuck Anymore

It is punishing in its bleakness, wry in its humor, and surprisingly musically triumphant. [Mar - Jul 2024, p.81]

As he goes on to dig into toxic masculinity, his own ageing process and urban isolation (on the striking Safe & Well), Malcolm Middleton’s music is masterful, a combination of dense electronics and angry guitars which perfectly meet the mood of a fiercely current album.

There's a playfulness to their genre-hopping tact, with Moffat fitting his often-loose prose to warped club beats (Bliss), folk twang (Molehills), and 80s-inspired soft-rock (You're Not There). Album opener Allatonceness is their best case yet for repping their label Rock Action, owned by post-rock pioneers Mogwai, bearing a beefed-up muscular riff that expands their sound with emotional force.

Wonderfully morose lyrics (and funny!), a pitch-perfect retro sound design that alternates between deadly serious and utterly comical, and a cohesive vision that represents the very best of their craft. Lovely stuff.

Thrillingly raw, it captures the pair at their most streamlined, visceral and direct, disproving F Scott Fitzgerald's theory about second acts. [Jun 2024, p.86]

Arab Strap songs mostly have a strong, vinegary flavour, and this is abracingly sour album over the long haul. The relentless misanthropic grind can drag in places. But as ever, Moffat’s withering scorn is sweetened by beautiful poetry, tender emotion and self-aware, bruise-black humour. [May 2024, p.36]

We have no right to expect a band to make a record this strong and vital almost three decades into their career. It’s full of piss and vinegar, but it’s full of desire, regret and love, too. Whatever the dismissive album title may tell you, Arab Strap very much still give a fuck.