Review: BIG TV - White Lies

White Lies’ third album ‘Big TV’ arrives a bit like a small raindrop in a huge ocean; an adage the critics have been all too keen to point out, frequently referencing how ‘unmemorable’ and generally how unforgettable White Lies as a band seem to be. The 100,000 play count of the band’s first single from the album, ‘There Goes Our Love Again’, would seem to imply differently, and although with album number three White Lies may not have been offered an NME cover or much hype at all following the mixed-to-negative Ritual, anything that has an audience deserves a listener – so I’ll skip the cheap disses and get down to the music...

Except White Lies seem to ask for a hell of a lot whilst offering very little. All of the songs seem to talk about love but incur an emotional pool more akin to boredom and numbness. “There Goes Our Love Again” is average but still placed prematurely at the second track. The fact that the genuinely anthemic (and rather good) “Farewell To The Fairground” was held out until track eight on the debut meant their first affair offered a bit of reward for sticking with the album material. By track eight this time around, Harry offers that he’ll “Be Your Man” but the seven previous tracks haven’t really implied he has any kind of personality or gusto that would make this proposition an attractive one. To be fair, “Be Your Man” is suitably catchy itself, but who is it written for? One fears it to be for dull, young men rather similar to themselves – expecting a kind of poetic resonance and charm in their life without putting in any effort. This kind of outlook is mundanely championed again on “First Time Caller”, where the singer bemoans “I want you to love me, more than love you, tell me if that’s something you can do.” Apparently the fact that the band find it hard to love, something that is drummed in at mid-pace on almost every song, is enough to warrant a whole track with “Tricky”, where the line is “It can be tricky to love.” The short, ambient “Space ii” (yes, there is a “Space i”) seems to actually be being made from sort of idea, from an image – an inspiration. It says something when a song that barely passes one minute in length is the greatest example of emotion or interest. It is wordless too, thankfully. Harry McVeigh otherwise seems intent to slaughter the other tracks in self-serious monotony, seemingly possessing the lyrical and vocal range of a 15-centimetre ruler. The other components of the album aren’t particularly bad but just charmless – I find it hard to write about the album knowing that this band has been given three attempts on a record label with a studio and repeatedly succumbed to being dull and robotic. A chance other bands are rarely offered.

The gloomy sound of the album provides zero respite from the “upset but for no particular reason” demeanour of the lyrics and delivery, and although there is some concise musicianship on the title track “Big TV” and “Mother Tongue”; the contents of the album are mushy and mediocre. Sadly the album is rather pointless, and does little for White Lies already shaky reputation (if they even have one.) Another paltry excuse of post-punk that the 2000s seems to herald, as White Lies find themselves on the same rubbish dump as Interpol; whilst having almost none of the merit or quality of even that band.

3.0/10

Tracklist*:

Big TV
There Goes Our Love Again
Space i
First Time Caller
Mother Tongue
Getting Even
Change
Be Your Man
Space ii
Tricky To Love
Heaven Wait
Goldmine

*Highlights in bold. Duds in italic.