Rocker (feedbot)
Platinum Member
It feels like we’re all Kid Kapichi. Roaring out of the pandemic years with their 2021 debut through their political disillusionment and galvanisation of their next two releases, Jack Wilson and Eddie Lewis have channelled our zeitgeist into jagged, quick-witted tunes. ‘Fearless Nature’ sees the duo turning a corner, and it’s one that may prove divisive among fans. It’s slow, thoughtful and slides into the space between bitter acceptance and yearning for utopia.
The misty, distorted beats of opener ‘Leader Of The Free World’ come as a shock, especially if you were expecting a blasting diatribe against the rich and powerful. Instead, we get thoughtful Albarn commentary on the self, backed with clashing resignation. The slow, building soundscapes betraying vulnerability emerge as a hallmark of this new phase of Kid Kapichi’s career and dominate the character of this record. Take the ominous raindrop chimes of ‘Dark Days Are Coming’; it’s the kind of song that would be unimaginable from Kid Kapichi a couple of years ago, a simply repeated midnight warning with a velvet touch that’s so far from their usual brashness. Even the deceptively peppy ‘Patience’ has a nineties, lo-fi resignation and a Beck-like energy of gritted teeth and wistful longing for normality.
We’re faced with a cyclical, chicken-or-egg question – id the world change around Kid Kapichi, and they’re just reflecting reality’s slow drift into incomprehensibility and threat in their cautious fourth outing? Or did their perspective change first on the world and their boldness evolve into matured despair? It’s amazing the holographic shift in perception that each song undergoes depending on side you choose. ‘Head Right’ could be a cynical take on the turn that the responding to current affairs means, or it equally could be a cry for help set to echoing indie. Likewise, the tender ‘Saviour’ could be a call to a departing loved one, or giving up on the idea that salvation will come from above and instead comes from the personal connections that we foster.
Yet within all the quiet despair, there’s moments of beauty. The Bowie-lite guitar of ‘Rabbit Hole’ feels like a love letter to mundanity, a pretty slice-of-life confession that swoops upwards, and each time they’ve turned their cheek away from getting in your face, they’ve embraced a dark, low-key loveliness. Even ‘Stainless Steel’, probably the closest to the beloved Kid Kapichi sound we’ve grown so close to over the last few years, features confessions of vulnerability and sacrilegious chords in between the vitriol.
In the same way that we grew to love Frank Carter’s thoughtful new wail or even Kid Kapichi’s spiritual grandfather Damon Albarn’s time among the Gorillaz, ‘Fearless Nature’ will be a record that grows with time. We’re a world away from ‘Tamagotchi’ or ‘Zombie Nation’, but that’s not to say there isn’t a lot to appreciate on this release. If anything, their appreciation of the tiny moments of touching connection and maturing contemplation will make for a lasting chapter in the Kid Kapichi story, once we’ve all taken the time to recognise the depths of their sentiment that they’re offering us.
KATE ALLVEY
The misty, distorted beats of opener ‘Leader Of The Free World’ come as a shock, especially if you were expecting a blasting diatribe against the rich and powerful. Instead, we get thoughtful Albarn commentary on the self, backed with clashing resignation. The slow, building soundscapes betraying vulnerability emerge as a hallmark of this new phase of Kid Kapichi’s career and dominate the character of this record. Take the ominous raindrop chimes of ‘Dark Days Are Coming’; it’s the kind of song that would be unimaginable from Kid Kapichi a couple of years ago, a simply repeated midnight warning with a velvet touch that’s so far from their usual brashness. Even the deceptively peppy ‘Patience’ has a nineties, lo-fi resignation and a Beck-like energy of gritted teeth and wistful longing for normality.
We’re faced with a cyclical, chicken-or-egg question – id the world change around Kid Kapichi, and they’re just reflecting reality’s slow drift into incomprehensibility and threat in their cautious fourth outing? Or did their perspective change first on the world and their boldness evolve into matured despair? It’s amazing the holographic shift in perception that each song undergoes depending on side you choose. ‘Head Right’ could be a cynical take on the turn that the responding to current affairs means, or it equally could be a cry for help set to echoing indie. Likewise, the tender ‘Saviour’ could be a call to a departing loved one, or giving up on the idea that salvation will come from above and instead comes from the personal connections that we foster.
Yet within all the quiet despair, there’s moments of beauty. The Bowie-lite guitar of ‘Rabbit Hole’ feels like a love letter to mundanity, a pretty slice-of-life confession that swoops upwards, and each time they’ve turned their cheek away from getting in your face, they’ve embraced a dark, low-key loveliness. Even ‘Stainless Steel’, probably the closest to the beloved Kid Kapichi sound we’ve grown so close to over the last few years, features confessions of vulnerability and sacrilegious chords in between the vitriol.
In the same way that we grew to love Frank Carter’s thoughtful new wail or even Kid Kapichi’s spiritual grandfather Damon Albarn’s time among the Gorillaz, ‘Fearless Nature’ will be a record that grows with time. We’re a world away from ‘Tamagotchi’ or ‘Zombie Nation’, but that’s not to say there isn’t a lot to appreciate on this release. If anything, their appreciation of the tiny moments of touching connection and maturing contemplation will make for a lasting chapter in the Kid Kapichi story, once we’ve all taken the time to recognise the depths of their sentiment that they’re offering us.
KATE ALLVEY