Frank Carter & The Rattlesnakes swagger to life on Dark Rainbow

Whilst always under the Rattlesnakes moniker – which Carter put together in 2015 alongside Richardson – in the ensuing years, the two have remained the key players. Where 2015 debut Blossom was a spiky, brash, punk effort that felt close to Carter’s ‘00s start in Gallows, they've morphed through sonics and moods, invariably desserting that caustic past for a more calmly, collected present, from 2017's Modern Ruin through to 2019's End of Suffering.

2021's Sticky failed to perform up to the Rattlesnakes' songwriting talent. Feeling like a cheap imitation of a radio-ready band, fixing this misstep Dark Rainbow is where Carter's past and present collide to find a new sound that digs into the sharp mind of one of British rock's favourite sons.

Grappling with his place in the Big World, Dark Rainbow finds a light through those stormy moments. It embraces the cacophony of change and noise that surrounds someone who's grown older in a public – and altogether more expectant – spotlight. Evolving from snarling punk upstart to besuited rock middle-weight title-holder, Carter's ascension to such feels riddled with experience and wisdom and it's on The Rattlesnakes' fifth album he takes to the stage. He’s earnestly wearing a posturing rock and roll triumph; his heart stitched on his velvet sleeve, and crooning like it's the end of days.

It feels like a new start for Carter and Richardson. The thick-as-thieves pair have an intuitive understanding that The Rattlesnakes’ is more than a Frank Carter vehicle these days. It’s a duo who have lived, grown and now accepting the pitfalls of ageing as a rockstar in a world opposed to such, which "Man Of The Hour"'s wondering sentiment "Rockstar / Pornstar / Man of the hour / Don't let him out / Where is he now?" deftly sees off.

There’s ambition without feeling gauche. It’s the kind of touch you’d expect from an act this many years down the line yet they pull it off with style, holding a mirror up to the crows-feet thousand-yard-stare of ageing wisdom and laughing at it like an old chum. Choruses are plentiful, tactile songwriting makes for a spectacularly fun listen. Mood swings swerve between swaggering (“American Spirit”), to the obscenely horny ("Honey"), covering the bases for a wild life living in a wild world.

Carter is a rockstar for the present, a gift from that past that alongside Richardson knows when to hold 'em, and when to fold 'em, and in the instance of Dark Rainbow, he's got a winning hand.