Great music is timeless.
When I first discovered Royal Blood, they came at me Out of the Black, and their sound hit me like a Ten Tonne Skeleton. However, their third album, Typhoons, didn’t quite blow me away.
So here I am, catching up with their fourth album, Back to the Water Below, which somehow passed me by when it was released in 2023. Earlier today, I’d revisited their self-titled debut. Now, sitting in the office at 8:19 in the morning with a pile of cases to write up, I’m listening to a very different Royal Blood. And I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it.
Two Men, One Enormous Sound
Royal Blood’s first two albums, Royal Blood (2014) and How Did We Get So Dark? (2017), are masterpieces in my eyes. Mike Kerr and Ben Thatcher demonstrated that you don’t need nine people in a band to make an absolutely enormous sound. Kerr’s remarkable bass setup, with its distorted, guitar-like tones and thundering low end, combined with Thatcher’s explosive drumming to create something genuinely exciting.
Songs like Loose Change and How Did We Get So Dark? have a physical impact. They’re the kind of songs that demand your attention, whether you’re ready to give it or not. That’s the Royal Blood I fell in love with. And perhaps that’s part of the problem here.
A Different Kind of Royal Blood
Mountains at Midnight opens with an unexpected burst of Ben Thatcher’s drumming. A welcome surprise, and a decent way to announce the album. When Kerr’s bass arrives, it’s heavily distorted, but not quite in the way I expected. Rather than that massive, aggressive low-end sound, there’s a more conventional distorted-guitar quality to it.
Having listened to the debut earlier the same day, the difference in production is striking. The rawness of their early material has given way to something noticeably more polished and controlled.
There’s also something I’ve always felt gets overlooked when people discuss Royal Blood: Mike Kerr is a genuinely excellent singer. His bass playing understandably attracts enormous attention, but his voice is a huge part of what makes the band work. And on this album, the arrangements often give that voice more room to shine.
Pull Me Through introduces piano, which certainly caught my attention. The song has a polished, full-band sound, almost as though Royal Blood have expanded from a duo into a three- or four-piece. It’s an interesting development. The arrangements sound fuller, yet the music itself feels more stripped back. There’s less reliance on that colossal bass sound, with more space for melody, atmosphere and emotion.
The Sound of Reflection
One thing that becomes increasingly apparent is the album’s melancholic quality. The Firing Line, in particular, feels reflective and restrained. It’s a long way from the confrontational energy of the band’s debut.
Kerr has spoken about difficult periods in his life, including struggles that preceded Typhoons, and I found myself wondering whether some of that personal experience might be reflected in the music here. I wouldn’t pretend to know his intentions, but there’s a definite sense of introspection running through this record.
And I appreciate that. Musicians grow. Their circumstances change. Their interests develop. Expecting a band to recreate its debut indefinitely would be both unfair and rather boring. But appreciation and connection aren’t necessarily the same thing.
Waiting for Something
Tell Me When It’s Too Late comes closest to delivering the aggression I’ve been missing. There’s plenty of fuzz on Kerr’s bass, but much of the song’s power seems to come from Thatcher’s drumming rather than that familiar dual-amp bass sound. Towards the end, the bass almost seems to disappear beneath the cymbals.
It’s energetic, certainly, but it doesn’t quite have the impact I associate with Royal Blood at their best. And somewhere during this album, I realised something: I feel like I’m waiting for something. I’m not entirely sure what.
I don’t listen to albums in isolation from the real world. I listen while I’m working, driving or simply going about my day. Sometimes a record demands my attention; sometimes it washes over me. Neither approach is inherently wrong.
Not every album has to grab you by the balls. But when a band like Royal Blood has built its reputation on doing exactly that, you notice when something feels missing.
I kept waiting for a moment that would make me stop writing, look up from my work and think, there it is. That moment never quite arrived.
The Next Record Verdict: SEED
As an album, Back to the Water Below is good. Royal Blood are more than capable of writing great songs and putting together a cohesive record. The musicianship remains excellent. The production is polished, the arrangements are more varied, and the willingness to explore a less aggressive, more melancholic sound is admirable. But for some reason, it kept leaving me wanting something more.
Royal Blood have always excited me. Their first two albums showed just how powerful two musicians could be, and that excitement is a huge part of why I love them. Sadly, Back to the Water Below feels as though it’s moved away from some of what made them special to me. Not necessarily for the worse, but certainly in a direction that hasn’t connected with me quite as strongly.
Evolution in a band is never inherently a bad thing. It shows growth, flexibility and a willingness to experiment with different instruments, arrangements and styles. But not every evolution clicks with every listener. And for me, this is one that hasn’t quite clicked.
SEED — a good album, deserving of appreciation and perhaps another listen, but not one that’s earned a place in my regular rotation. Sometimes you can recognise the quality of a record without falling in love with it.
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