Album review: Karnivool – Sound Awake

Here’s another example of my cultural blindness – Karnivool are (apparently) one of the biggest extant rock bands in Australia, and before now I’d never heard of them. Having no familiarity with their earlier material (if we discount the appearance of the guitarist and bassist on that annoyingly ubiquitous Pendulum album, which is something I’m happy to do), I’m unable to tell you whether Sound Awake is a new direction for the band, or whether they’ve always the antipodean A Perfect Circle.

Now, let me be clear: Sound Awake is good solid stuff right from the outset. Opening track “Simple Boy” begins with a super-gnarly bassline, glowering and distorted, seemingly on the lam from a lost Filter tune; it’s soon joined by vocals like a youthful Maynard James Keenan, plus drums and guitars to match, though without the extreme degree of filigree that tends to be Tool’s hallmark. There’s a distorted trip-hop breakbeat in the breakdown, real pounding menace underpinning a brooding atmosphere, strong melodies, great dynamics and lush production… if I hadn’t already heard A Perfect Circle I’d be utterly blown away by Karnivool. As it is, I’m still impressed.

Things continue in much the same vein – quality tunes that make up in conception and execution what they lack in pure originality. Close listening is rewarded by subtle details buried in the layers, but not to excess – the tunes come first, and they’re a great compromise between accessible and complex. Unusually for young bands who sound a lot like a more staunchly independent pioneer, there’s no whiff of disguise from Karnivool; they’re not just pulling this on this outfit because they think it’ll sell. There’s genuine passion for the material, an undercurrent of authenticity that’s hard (though admittedly not impossible) to fake… and there’s the gratifying self-indulgence of musicians given free reign and a decent budget. Every track reminds you of something you’ve heard elsewhere, but they each have their own character, too, within the coherence of the album as a whole.

But that coherence is borne of sounding a lot like another band, in terms of structure and approach if not in actual tonal choices (though vocalist Ian Kenny isn’t afraid to pinch some of Keenan’s tricks, which is easier to forgive when you realise he can pull it off two times in every three). I don’t want to carp, but I kinda have to – for every exciting and unique riff, melody or hook on Sound Awake, there’s one that feels like it’s been lifted from something I’ve already heard… and heard five years ago, at that. Familiarity is a strong attractor, but only up to a point, making listening to Karnivool a little like sleeping with someone who looks just like a former partner. You can’t help but feel that, as good as it is, you’ve had better before from someone you loved with the passion of youth.

This isn’t to belittle their achievements, however – Sound Awake is a good album by a talented band, and a sign that they could become better still, given time. And I’m certainly not going to complain about there being an uptick in the number of decent darkly progressive rock bands on the market… but they’re currently all standing in the shadow of a couple of veteran outfits whose canonical ubiquity means they’ll be hard to overthrow. There’s a chance that you might be able to steal the crown by delivering the same stuff more regularly, but the only surefire way is to, as Mister Keenan himself says, “push the envelope / watch it bend”.

I’ll definitely make a point of going to see Karnivool play live if an affordable opportunity arises, but Sound Awake is far too similar to A Perfect Circle’s material to avoid my ear drawing the comparison. Call me again when they’ve truly broken the mould; I promise to be suitably blown away.