Assembled in South London during the heady days of 2018, Legss have slowly risen in the alt-rock ranks over the past few years. Now, they’re front and centre in the scene with their long-awaited debut album, Unreal, distributed by The State51 Conspiracy.
The foursome introduce the record with ‘Broadcast’, a track that offers the sonic equivalent of a pit in the stomach, alluding to loss, grief, and hope, all wrapped up within vague verses that are delivered both tastefully and gut-wrenchingly (“I think it’s time / I was gone now / With a beautiful glass / Of fine wine / Stop, you’re making me gag”).
Mysterious, bleak and beautiful all at once, the track later erupts into a jubilant burst of light, only to be shortly contradicted by echoes of the track’s earlier distress, drawing timely comparisons to how many of us feel about the current state of the world. Conflicting themes of emptiness, grief for what once was, and slivers of hope ultimately pose the question: Will we ever experience true, unfiltered joy again in such dire straits?
In a similar existential, post-punk vein, the spoken word on ‘Sleepers, Awake’ bears similarities to the sound of Shame’s 2018 debut, Songs of Praise, providing an updated take on the soul searching we all outwardly perform to feel something. Scathing and brimmed with feelings of paranoia – “It seems like some people only exist to prang me the f**k out” – it only serves to reaffirm the misfit narrative that characterises Legss’ discography.
Softer, less intense tracks are also featured throughout, offering balance for those not seeking an exclusively high-octane art-rock record. ‘See No Evil’, though sonically restrained, sharpens the album’s psychological focus, using its softness to shine a lyrical light on passive complicity and the emotional fatigue that dominates society, while ‘Silo’ slows the tempo down with drawn-out strings, carving out a rare breather in an otherwise relentless ride.
Speaking about their debut release, the band said, “Unreal feels like the work of a lifetime. We can’t believe we’re still here to see it through, but we are, and we couldn’t be prouder. The album is about miscommunication and feelings of unreality, the uncanny in everyday life, the tragic and the comic.”
You can also add ‘ominous’ to that list with their hit ‘American Flowers’, an eerie, Radiohead-esque cut defined by sharp riffs and hazy vocals, split between spoken-word passages and those quintessential Legss lyrics that leave plenty to the imagination. Menacing and drenched in paranoia, ‘909’ shortly follows, emerging as the album’s final burst of riotous energy before closing with the sombre, memorial-like ‘Fugue’.
Following such a complex and hard-hitting track-list, it’s no surprise their debut – seven years in the making – feels like their most mature release yet. A sonic journey of peaks and troughs, slow and fast, bleak and tantalising, Unreal deserves a spot on the radar of anyone hunting for the next best alt band.