Kasabian has clung onto their household name status not through contemporary works but by reminding people they are a last bastion of a previous generation of music. They are not moving on because their audience refuses to. Arctic Monkeys left behind the mid-2000s sound not because they tired of it, but because their efforts were better served elsewhere. Their talent goes beyond genre classification. Those who do not adapt or move on, who try to keep pitching the same, shallow instrumentals as the likes of The Reytons and Circa Waves, will find themselves on the nostalgia circuit soon enough. It’s where Kasabian has pitched their tent, and they prove as much with Great Pretender, a single from Acts III, an album they announced so long ago you’d be forgiven for thinking it had already been released. Much like their previous album, the immediately forgettable half-hour that was Happenings, the change is not in their attitude or sound, but in which sub-genre of rock they wish to defile. For Great Pretender, it’s a run-through of that summer playlist sound.
Truly one of the most vacuous songs released this decade. A call to dance again, and that’s all. Two-and-a-half minutes of Serge Pizzorono struggling to keep this cool rock frontman image alive. A song with little to no meaning behind it is not, inherently, a bad experience. There are songs like Wigwam from Bob Dylan or catchy thrills like Chaise Lounge from Wet Leg, which offer instrumentally satisfying experiences. Kasabian forgets to include that hook, that necessary leap of faith into the sound of a new genre or comfortable, familiar tone. Instead, they stick to the middle of the road, a place so comfortable for the Pizzorono-led group that they may be closer to roadkill than rockers. Nothing happens on Great Pretender. The context of its title and the interests of the song, laid out as the second single of Acts III doesn’t match up. It creates a contradiction where there doesn’t need to be one, and even if there were a need for it, the details Kasabian provide is underwhelming.
Where the band may have been grating across Happenings, they were at least equipped with a different sound. Not different enough to differentiate between the low bar that the so-called indie rock scene is now operating with, but replacing that genre with art rock and alternative stylings has been a successful route for the very best contemporary acts. Beyond those household names like Arctic Monkeys, the likes of Wolf Alice, Yard Act, and Fontaines D.C. are noting their influences and adapting them thusly. Kasabian’s influence is not in question, but a song like Great Pretender questions whether they themselves can adapt as those they influenced have. They’re getting left behind the same way Catfish and the Bottlemen had been, FIFA soundtrack fodder with an occasional headline festival slot for the nostalgic Saturday lull.
They’ll likely play this song on an upcoming episode of Saturday Night Live and send viewers into that deep slumber so inevitable when listening to Kasabian. Their anthemic days are behind them, but they don’t seem to realise it. Great Pretender is meant to be their next big party sound, the festival-season topper that gets the audience going. But they already have those songs cemented in their discography and can fill a setlist with just those, should they wish to. Doing anything else would be seen as a break from what they know, and that would be far too daring for a band whose worth is stocked solely in what people think of the vibe. Kasabian may never dig that little bit deeper, and even when they do, it sounds as though they’re unaware of what they could provide should they lose this thin-sounding nostalgia act style.
