Back catalogue: Indie/Alternative

Review: Nashville based bad haircut sporting, southern-tinged indie rock darlings Kings Of Leon were met with immediate acclaim and hyperbolic levels of high praise across their initial three-album run, yet when 2008's Only By The Night, and to a more specific extent, the 'Sex On Fire' phenomenon transpired, the same hipsters who one summer prior were burning everyone's ears off with endless recommendation were now lambasting the group for their expansive success. This shift in perception was clearly felt internally, as the next decade of output would suffer from aimlessness and a clear lack of spark, until timid signs of reignition would appear on 2021's When You See Yourself, which in retrospect, now seems to have been a sonic toe-dip back into folk-driven, neo-Americana while boasting enough wit and self-awareness to still appeal to their more mainstream followers. Going one further, Can We Please Have Fun feels like a plead to themselves and their core devout fanbase to return to a time before 'Use Somebody' was in every TV advert, when Kings Of Leon were a cheeky, bluesy batch of enigmatic rockers with questionable haircuts and charming southern drawls. They might still look like pop megastars nowadays, but on their ninth full-length, the Followills sound more self-assured, and joyous as ever.

Review: Now 21 years into a hugely successful career, you'd forgive Kings of Leon for resting on their laurels. That they've not done that with Can We Have Fun, their ninth studio album. Instead of dialling in alt-rock-tinged American rock anthems - their stock-in-trade - they've instead delivered a set that's as spiky, unpredictable and infectious as their earliest work, while also making space for moodier, slower and more atmospheric songs. So, on one hand you have recent single 'Mustang', an infectious slab of garage-rock funkiness, and the weighty Foo Fighters riffs and booming bass of 'Nothing To Do'; on the other the slow-motion beats, effects-laden ambient textures, soft-burn guitar solos and dreamy sonics of 'Split Screen' and the country-goes-indie flex of 'Actual Daydream'.