Keane's last album, Under the iron sea, was fantastic. It matched utter lyrical desolation, anger and bemusement with the crisp compression and vapid production language of MOR's lowest-common-denominator appeal (sadness=sleigh bells), and in doing so, amply illustrated the basis for the apparent collapse of the band's self-belief: the reactive depression of the classic second album. It's comparable to divorce-era ABBA in terms of its narrative voice; Rice-Oxley's lyrics foreground a perpetual accusation of betrayal by his best friend, and are, of course, sung by that same best friend. The commitment of the vocal delivery - Chaplain has never sounded better than on tracks such as 'Leaving so soon', one of the more straightforwardly bitter songs I've ever heard - under such circumstances feels like bravery, an open, full-throated admission of responsibility not heard since 'Winner takes it all', and similarly both maudlin and brilliant, with its heart in Cohen and Waits.

This new track feels vaudevillian by comparison; the translation of emotional language into Janet and John production wonkery is smarting under the idea that the music matters again. The Prince and Byrne feints sit badly alongside the slightly hysterical reassurance - Keane are all better, we are, we are. I'm not sure if I like it yet, but at least they still sound insane. Have they been letting Ton write the lyrics?

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In reply to Joe Stannard:

Keane would never be able to write anything as emotionally affecting as 'The Day Before You Came' or anything as rocking as 'Does Your Mother Know?'

They are probably the least offensive of the safety blanket rockers though.

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That's the great thing about the last record - that there is no safety blanket. The production value, far from being a cocoon, has become a metonym of the problem at hand, and no character is safe, no introspection is easy; perspectives slide all over the place, and there's none of the slatternly, generalist ennui that characterises their ilk. Instead, risks and problems are in relatively sharp focus, intractable and painful. This is a fairly horrifying album in an unconvincing disguise.

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There's a joke to be had about Keane giving away music, I know it...

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