<p><span><span><span><span><span><span>- At this stage, there has already been a lot of thought and words laid out over King Krule’s musical whims. All that are interested hear it clearly: an effortless blend of genre, a <em>woozy</em> production style, his commanding vocal delivery - bring out your <strong>Clash</strong> references or any other street-savvy UK band between here and the '80s and you can crack a <strong>King Krule</strong> conversation in a minute. All the accolades and all the interest are warranted, as well; <strong>Archy Marshall</strong> is a compelling musical figure.</span></span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span><span><span><span><span><span>His last album, <em>The Ooz</em>, was a monstrous and surreptitiously fiendish bog of delightful woe. The blob announced itself and its intent to swallow you up, it lumbered its way toward you at an ignorable pace, only for you to realise at the last minute that you’d been duped and dunked in the conceptually turgid muck of an anti-hero, terrified you’ll run out of air, one arm free trying to grab that vine that turns out to be snake. The lot of us are masochists, that album was highly celebrated. Right on. </span></span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span><span><span><span><span><span>This new one sounds the same: woozy, post-punk, distinct voice: check. The difference being that there is a lightness in form revealing a stable structure of value. This is unveiled over a series of vignettes, arising in nonchalant couplets of morbid curiosity in <em>Comet Face</em> and the child-like wonder of <em>Theme For The Cross</em>, the deep empathy in <em>Slinky</em> and detached bemusement in <em>Cellular</em>.</span></span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span><span><span><span><span><span>This album <em>Man Alive!</em> is filled with gratitude and low-key celebrations, mindful of disconnects and limitations, its openness to feel fully and see clearly signifies King Krule is living and creating completely. There have been some personal developments i.e. the commercial and critical success, the newly minted fatherhood and the moderation of urban infirmity that help to give balance to the previous exorcisms of despair and depression with new allowances of hope and humility. For instance, <em>Comet Face</em>, with its repeated musical and lyrical motifs, riffs on urban violence and its partner track <em>Dreams</em> is linear, poetic and loving. Even more so, the first half of the album is the deeply reminiscent of <em>The Ooz</em>, the latter half floats waywardly through a fresh air acceptance and compassion.</span></span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span><span><span><span><span><span>Motifs will either waft or plod depending on how Marshall seeks balance. There’s no significant piece that demands to be the single: the album waltzes with subtle energies and wistful endurance. In the context of growing catalogues and critical succession, <em>Man Alive!</em> feels much like <em>When I Get Home</em> by <strong>Solange</strong>. It's a body of work that is the afterbirth of a major effort, a time to mend, let little things just be and a desire to capture and appreciate moments. It’s for this reason <em>Man Alive!</em> should be celebrated for its creative maturity and it’s embrace of life lived fully; and, all while maintaining what we’re suckers for: the woozy vibes, the post-punk structures and a distinct voice.</span></span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span><span><span><span><span><span>- Nicholas J. Rodwell.</span></span></span></span></span></span></p>
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