This new album, the ninth from the inimitable Falkirk duo, sees Aidan Moffat and Malcolm Middleton on fire. It’s not often that a band gets a new lease of life later into their career, but then, they’ve always been one to buck trends. Few speak to the creeping malaise as accurately as The Strap.
From the defiant post-punk of ‘I Get Noise’ to the tender as a bruise ‘ Ampersand’, the use of crunching drums, fiery guitars and early- era Psychedelic Furs style saxophone sees the band in droll, often meditative form.
Then there’s the satirical spin in ‘Glamour Magick’ on wellness bullshit, a healthy dose of scepticism at quick-fix promises of eternal youth from those who are old enough to know that it’s all a lie, and the folly of conflict headed up by oligarchs in the fiery ‘Fighting For You’. Arab Strap aren’t “raging against the dying light” as Dylan Thomas had it, so much as chuckling wearily at it. Their middle age period comes with a middle finger, and it’s all very much needed, indeed.
They’ve always fondled the sweet spot between fumbling encounters and savage rejoinders, and this is no different. The debauchery of youth is tempered by ghosts and mortality, particularly on ‘Mr Splitfoot’, which flits between ghost-hunting and panic attack.’Beats Per Minute’ is a science lesson, while ‘You You You’ glowers in a seedy club at 2 am. Good to have them back.
Out via Rock Action on September 4th.
Hit The North 
Thanks, that was relatable. Very.
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