Duels

There’s a fine line between brilliance and arrogance, particularly if you’re a progressive indie band from Leeds. Duels, having returned to the fold with an ambitious second long player, are treading that line with the grace of a tightrope walker. ‘The Barbarians Move In’ is undoubtedly a daring record – orchestral indie rock, fraught with darkness and mysticism. Get it right, and they could be hailed as Britain’s answer to Mercury Rev. Get it wrong, and they could find themselves cast onto the indie scrapheap, spending the rest of their days stealing fags from The Vines, jamming with John Power and having to use their smorgasbord of instruments for firewood.

Having burst out of the Leeds scene in 2006 with their widely acclaimed debut album ‘The Bright Lights And What I Should Have Learned’, their success was perhaps overshadowed on their home turf by the pop juggernaut that was The Kaiser Chiefs, but though still relying heavily on guitars, Duels’ is a more jagged sound and one which refuses to sit easily in any sort of pop mould.

Though they flirt with string instruments and wispy, distorted guitar effects, their preferred mistress is the piano which offers them the greatest wealth of possibilities. The ghoulish, descending scale of minor keys in ‘Wolvesland’ is just plain spooky, sounding like a less psychedelic, more sinister Mercury Rev. The chiming verse gives way to a leering chorus in which singer Jon Foulger snarls: “Who put that smile on your face?”

Menacing lyrics such as this are in abundance and even comparable to the tortured laments of Morrissey. Opening track ‘The Furies’ (a reference to the mythological female angels of vengeance) pounds like a battle cry, Foulger singing, “We’re the wind in the trees / we’re the scars on your knees / and we’re coming for you, yeah.”

Metaphorical allusions to antiquity and mystery are not uncommon on the record. ‘Perimeter Fence’ appears to deal with the suffocation caused by living in a dysfunctional family, the chorus bristling with malevolence, its imagery immensely powerful.

For all their ire and vaguely misanthropic diatribes, Duels have succeeded in making a quite beautiful record. At no point does their persistent use of effects and additional instruments seem unnatural or unnecessary. Although it’s tempting to lump them nonchalantly into a generic progressive box, the songs all have clearly defined structures, with no trace of Mogwai-esque tedium, the lyrics are passionate and the musicianship experimental without appearing self-indulgent. Even six-minuter ‘The First Time / The Last Time’ holds your focus and just soothes your senses in the same way Doves’ ‘There Goes The Fear’ does.

So it’s fair to say that Duels have indeed got it right here. It’s a remarkably mature effort, dark and disarming, and it’s rare to see a band evoke dual images of fear and beauty in their music. Remember how Arcade Fire shunned the limelight for so long before garnering huge critical acclaim on the strength of their music alone, then standing back while the likes of Bowie and Bono prostrated themselves at their altar? You wouldn’t bet against Duels having a similar effect this year.