A sub-half-hour offering from the makers of one of the most overplayed songs of all, Stereophonics are back. Still defined by Dakota, a song which is known more by the electronic hum introduction than its name, the band are creating more for the sake of having something to tour than artistic inspiration. Make ‘em Laugh, Make ‘em Cry, Make ‘em Wait makes good on at least one of those verbs. But the laughter is not with Stereophonics this time, is it? It is at, rather than with. A nasty place to hear it. Seeing an album clock in at under half an hour once was a sign of effective, often necessary cuts made to fit onto a record side. Now, it more than likely means something like Kaiser Chiefs’ Easy Eighth has been vomited onto Nile Rodgers’ lap. Still, the top of the charts means something, or at least that is what James Arthur listeners keep telling themselves.
Not every song has to have a message, but they should at least say something. Make ‘em Laugh, Make ‘em Cry, Make ‘em Wait has eight spots to try and create meaning but, like Manic Street Preachers earlier this year, has found their very limited, lowbrow look at the world too steep a hill to climb. They cannot hurdle over the knee-high wall of contemporary commentary. Instead, Stereophonics relies on the sound which has guided them to mid-level festival headline spots for the last decade. Opener Make It On Your Own has the inevitable spotlight guitar section and ugly-sounding strings, the laziness coupled with the predictability an unfortunate outcome of the Stereophonics formula. Kelly Jones still has a strong voice but finds himself drifting towards the very manufactured pop he stands against. He writes of ruin and houses of cards crumbling. Presumably, Jones has not glanced at George Orwell’s rules for writing.
Nor should he. It would mould Stereophonics into a band of indeterminate social relevance, they have not felt since their New Zealand chart-appearing song from the mid-2000s. Seems Like You Don’t Know Me deals in typical situations with run-of-the-mill writing paired with it. These softer instrumental flourishes work only when the songwriter at the heart has a collective nuance for the situations he finds himself in. Jones does not have that and instead sounds reliant on the string sections, soppy as ever, and overwhelming what heart each song could have. Love written of so plainly is hollow. Flickers of the heart should inspire some uniqueness, but Make ‘em Laugh, Make ‘em Cry, Make ‘em Wait reaches for the same, few, telling spots. There are, at the very least, moments which will fill a stadium. Moments to pass the time between Dakota and A Thousand Trees. They sound a bit like Cage the Elephant, had Matt Shultz been blackmailed by the Royal Harmonic Orchestra, and also had nothing new to say.
At its very best, this latest release from Stereophonics is an accidental album. A series of works coming not from the joys of creativity but spurred on by a lacking solo push from Jones, who accidentally spilt an album worth of songs over the table. Nothing wrong with that, and Jones remains a thoroughly competent and often interesting alternative rock performer, but they are struggling to keep up with the scene by the sounds of it. Countrified pieces like Mary Is A Singer is the best of the bunch, but that comes from someone who needs to play Nashville Skyline first thing in the morning to feel less contempt for themselves. Backroom Boys has a nice latter half, too. We cannot doubt the passion Jones displays here, that much is clear. But he and the band work with non-sequiturs and use the excuse of being hauled away by love as an explanation. Make ‘em Laugh, Make ‘em Cry, Make ‘em Wait is more an excuse to tour than a release worth listening to.
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