Los Campesinos! break your heart and make you like it on All Hell

A lot has changed for the twee poppers-turned-emos in the years since 2017’s terrific Sick Scenes. Stepping away from Wichita Records for their seventh LP, Los Campesinos! have kept things in house this time around, recording, producing, and even releasing All Hell themselves. Perhaps unsurprisingly when a band takes such creative control, there’s a degree of indulgence to the sound, length, and lyrical content, but when the end result is this great, all one can really say is indulge away.

Los Campesinos! like to bill themselves as the UK’s only emo band, and if that doesn’t quite hold water, they may be the only one we need. The seven piece tackles whichever strand of the knotty genre takes their fancy across the album, from the beautifully woven midwestern opener “The Coin-Op Guillotine” to the boisterous third wave feel of “Clown Blood” and occasional throwback harder hitting moments on the likes of “Moonstruck”. Not that it’s likely any label head was curtailing the group’s freedom of expression when they were tied to a deal, but it’s clear they’re doing exactly what they want here.

That sense of abandon goes double for Gareth Paisey’s lyrics. He’s always had a gift for delivering both rib ticklers and gut punches, and he delivers both in spades, especially the former. From getting his priorities straight about the future - “Don't get me wrong I love my friends' kids, sure they'll grow to be good leftists” – to observations you won’t hear anywhere else - “Your best friend that you think of as enemy / With mine in the bar, boring on about xG,” he’s showy and relatable at the same time. Even the semi-groaners (“give us this day our daily dread”) have a lot of charm to them.

By no means is this a knockabout record, though. He’s capable of pithy poetry, singing “Your eyes glazed over while you sat unlistening / You said your head's on fire and every thought is kindling” on the particularly mournful first track. As it’s a Los Campesinos! record, the lyrics sheet is dotted with references to football, but Paisey somehow manages to make them heartbreaking, equating an offence-minded high line with emotional vulnerability. This is the crux of All Hell: it’s a rare emo record catered towards a slightly older crowd, one that perhaps hasn’t yet found themselves where they expected to be and leans on mass culture chat and clever-clever jokes in lieu of tackling sadness head on.

Standout “Long Throes” sees Paisey searching for connection and a kinder world. He speaks of a struggle to find common ground with your parents - “You're all in agreement that the police are useless / They want them emboldened, baby, you want them bootless.” The track’s delivered not with righteous, scrappy fire but with weary resignation and sadness. “I'd like to teach the world to scream at all of the above,” he sings towards the end; the irony of an anti-capitalist anthem making reference to a song best known for its use on a Coke ad isn’t lost. When the nation - the world - is in such a state as this, it’s no surprise we’d rather drink pints and watch the game.

“A Psychic Wound” is another particularly effective downer, the band this time turning their sights on flagging mental health and lost love. It’s heavier and more energised, Paisey moving at pace on the mic, a lot to get off his chest. He ends the first verse with the couplet “​​Do you still have that one tattoo? That’s how it works, of course you do.” It’s a bit of writing that elicits a chuckle at first for its throwaway cheekiness, but the weight gradually rises like one of those miniature Hemingway short stories, piles of pathos and longing baked into barely over a dozen words.

By no means is All Hell one big pity party, mind. Produced by multi-instrumentalist Tom Bromley, the band have never sounded better. He drops a few string arrangements for moments of grandiosity but knows when to go direct and dark, like closer “Adult Acne Stigmata”. There’s even a nod to their twee roots on the sugary, incredibly catchy single “kms”. This is the most radio ready the band have sounded in a long while (even if some of the lyrics still cut to the quick), with big, crunchy guitars and a rare soaring guitar solo.

Los Campesinos! relish their position as a cult act with a strong following who can make the music they want to make, but in seizing control of the means of production, they’ve reached a new peak and have never sounded so accessible. This is music to cry and party to at the same time. They’ll eviscerate you and you’ll thank them for the privilege.