The Charlatans - Modern Nature

So, you won’t see that here. While there surely is something to be said for longevity, the more apropos and flattering point to hang on for The Charlatans is “consistency”. Criminally derided often as derivatives of The Rolling Stones and, prior to their steady morph into a mainstream rock band, playing second fiddle in historic retrospect to The Happy Mondays and The Stone Roses as fixtures of the turn of the ‘90s Madchester scene, The Charlatans have come to shake those off and exist on a plane of their own. Pop culture essayist Chuck Klosterman has alluded to the endurance and “timelessness” of AC/DC as being down to their having constructed a self-defining, consistent sound free of any trappings of modernity. And so it’s become, and actually has been for a long while, with The Charlatans. There’s no mistaking Burgess’ Northern drawl, the dual-keyed attack of organ and keyboard, and the effortless mix of indie rock and R&B.

As far as their career arc goes, at a high level, The Charlatans trend like R.E.M. or U2 – steadily morphing from their original sound to something more palatable and commercially successful, launching a critically indifferent risk-taker at their height followed by a back-to-basics overcorrection, then a scramble to recover to some sort of homeostasis. 2001’s Wonderland serves as their hinge point; I love it mostly, it soundtracked many a cold, dark night walk back from class at uni, but it is admittedly uneven, cold, and a tad uncomfortable, all of which contrast to the band’s previous material. Since, Burgess and company have clawed their way out of that hole evoking a hybrid of 1997’s Telling Stories’ indie rock flavour the subsequent Us And Us Only’s assured eclecticism. There’s been something missing though, Burgess has sounded tentative and the heretofore groove markedly absent – until now.

On Modern Nature, The Charlatans get back their dancing vibes while still managing to construct classic, Charlatans-sounding hooks. For good measure, the red herring opener and lead single, “Talking In Tones”, pulses metronomically through its haze, offering a worthy balm to any feelings of complacency. From there, if there’s any genre bend here, it’s a nod to the mid-late ‘70s disco era, but they stick to their bread and butter through the dashes of strings and female backing singers to conjure a sufficient kitschy disco hue without letting it overpower what they do, keeping everything sturdily “Charlatans”. Lyrics are vaguely wistful life and “relationshippy” stuff, but the hooks and song structures more than compensate. “So Oh”s breeziness and “Come Home Baby”s sequined groove are both affixed with rousing, textbook Charlatans chorus breaks. “Keep Enough” and “In The Tall Grass” dial the glitter groove back while Burgess comes across positively sultry before ratcheting up the mirror ball aesthetics of album centerpiece “Let The Good Times Be Neverending”.

The album loses steam over its closing third, “Lean In” perilously close to latter-day Oasis while “Trouble Understanding” and “Lots To Say” suffer from hook deficiency. Modern Nature won’t sit at the head of The Charlatans’ catalog for sure, but it’ll probably reside somewhere comfortably in the middle, which is a fine place to be in this band’s oeuvre. It’s largely like summer clothing ought to be, loose and comfortable, sexy in places, while overall fun and enjoyable. Long past their heyday, Modern Nature likely won’t ripple the upper reaches of the album charts or critic lists, nor will it rouse any new fans, but it’s an undeniable a pleasure to those who already are and proof The Charlatans tank is plenty full.