Idlewild
Warning/Promises

The fourth studio album by Idlewild (excluding the 1997 EP "Captain") was highly anticipated by the writer: the Scottish band led by Roddy Woomble finally managed to break into the UK charts with their 2002 album "The Remote Part," which seemed to have secured them the label of the "new R.E.M." after their emocore beginnings on the debut "Hope Is Important".

Not very famous but certainly with a loyal fan base, Idlewild took a whole three years before returning to the scene: and, amid lineup changes and personal vicissitudes, some signals that had already emerged in the recent past were frighteningly highlighted by this latest album, representing, if not a misstep, at least a transitional moment.
In short, the album "does not dare."
It doesn't dare because after the rock outbursts of the first two albums, the band seems to play with the handbrake on, preferring ballad form over Pixies-style rock 'n' roll, and for guys not yet in their thirties, this seems almost like an early menopause: not that they aren't capable of still producing beautiful things (for example, "Welcome Home" is among the best songs in their repertoire) but the anger and melancholy are missing that had also given luster to the shift towards pop in "The Remote Part".
"Warning/Promises" seems, wanting to trace the frequent analogies with R.E.M., a personal version of "Automatic For The People", starting from the catchy "As If I Hadn't Sleep" which reinterprets "The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonite" and the single "I Understand It" which seems like an outtake from "Document".

There are, of course, moments of high emotional content, like "El Captain", a cross between "Perfect Circle" (R.E.M.) and "Chocolate" (Snow Patrol), boasting a memorable refrain and the best lyrics ever written by Woomble, which is also proposed as the best episode of an otherwise weak and at times almost senile album.

Having cited the exceptions, let's go back to the rules: many of the tracks present are tired ballads dragged along by inertia, and instead of communicating passion, they only convey an unjustified sense of sadness.
Barely passing are "Love Steals Us From Loneliness", ruined by a bombastic production, and "Blame It On The Obvious Way" with that somewhat circular cadence, à la Neil Young, let's say: but "The Space Between All Things" is one of the most annoying pieces I've ever encountered, "Too Long Awake" is much better in the "voice and guitar" version present as a hidden track, and "I Want A Warning" aims to seem dramatic and aggressive but ultimately turns out to be just boring and ridiculous.
"Disconnected" rests on a country chant and minimalist rhythm that once again recalls R.E.M. (those of "Reveal"), and "Not Just Sometimes But Always" is yet another re-edition of typical American rock ballads: acoustic guitar like "me and her in front of the fireplace," poignant cello, and controlled voice.
Listening to these two tracks right after past gems like "Roseability" and "You Don't Have A Heart" almost makes one think they are talking about two completely different bands, but it wouldn't even be the first case of this kind in rock history, quite the opposite.

Idlewild already sound aged, and to be fair, they are not aging poorly, just as it is not true that this "Warning/Promises" is unpleasant to the ear: but the comparison with the other albums, authentic jewels of late '90s British rock, is ruthless.
Here there are 2-3 tracks worthy of their past, another 2-3 that are nice, and the rest are b-sides produced with greater care. Too little, I hoped for better. Maybe next time.