3.5 stars

Early this year, following four years of relentless touring, Oxford-based indie quartet, Foals, teased that they had a new album ready. This was not to be any ordinary album, however, as they had recorded simply too much material for one record, meaning it would have to be released in two editions, a sonic diptych, Everything Not Saved Will Be Lost, parts 1 and 2. Quite why they didn’t opt for the conventional double album format wasn’t immediately clear, but it now transpires that rather than two sides of the same coin, these two pieces are thematically and musically distinct. Companions for sure, but more Jekyll and Hyde than Ant and Dec.

Part 1 brought the biggest shift in their sound since the move from the jangly and staccato Antidotes to the funk-inflected introspection of Total Life Forever. Synth-laden and expansive, we saw a band revitalised with fresh creativity. It garnered them a Mercury Prize nomination, and set expectations high for the sequel. The second act of their apocalyptic play, however, feels all too familiar. Rather than continue with this new style or venture further into uncharted waters, they seem to have settled back into their old template. It’s more What Went Down Part 2, or even Holy Fire Part 3.

This isn’t to say it’s a bad album – far from it in fact – just that the progression from, say, ‘Snake Oil’ to ‘Black Bull’ or ‘A Knife In The Ocean’ to ‘Into the Surf’ feels a bit too linear. Less of an evolution, more a rehashing with added fuzz. There are undeniable delights though: in the menacing and brooding of ‘10,000 Feet’ and ten-minute closing jam ‘Neptune’ we see them deftly navigating cavernous soundscapes, interspersed with huge crescendos, and awash with obscure and evocative lyrics. They serve as a contemplative reprise to the brash and raucous first side.

With its meaty riffs and howling vocals, Part 2 is made for big, high-octane shows. And it makes sense – Foals have, deservedly so, earned themselves a reputation as one of the best live acts around, as anyone who has seen them will attest. While they don’t really go in for onstage theatrics, the pure unbridled energy of their performances keeps the crowds flocking back. It’s natural, therefore, that they should seek to distil that dynamism into this record. In this age of streaming, touring is more than ever the significant source of income for artists, so you can’t blame them. For many fans though it’s unfortunate that their new age NME-bait stadium rock comes at the expense of the more nuanced, intricate, Talking Heads-esque quaintness for which they were formally known and loved.