It takes either a very brave or very silly band to open an album with a 7+ minute song. Then again, you can't really blame Kings of Leon for being brassy; over the past few years, they've toured with the likes of stadium giants U2, supported the Pixies on their reunion tour and have even played with Bob Dylan on his never-ending jaunt. Add to that the fact that they've had two world-beating albums to their name, and it comes as no surprise that the Followills are feeling a little cocky. It's a newly-acquired and obvious trait throughout their third album, too; gone are the charming off-the-cuff bluesy ditties that picked you up by the scruff of the neck, kicked you up the arse and left you begging for more. In their place are deliberately intense, brooding numbers that are harder work than their previous, instantly-likeable output. Knocked Up, that aforementioned 7:10 opener, sets the pace for the album - it's a brooding, tense track about an unforeseen pregnancy that sees Followill yelp 'She don't care what her mama says / She gonna have my baby' in his distinctive trademark twang. Indeed, the first half of the 51-minute long album possesses the same bass-centric, downbeat mood as the likes of Interpol or Editors, with the ramshackle Charmer in particular necessitating comparisons to both. The comparably more melodic Black Thumbnail brings a change of mood and harks back to their rock 'n' roll wig-outs of yesteryear, as does the almost funky, stadium-friendly bassline of My Party, while the reggae-pop strut of Ragoo would bring The Police to their knees (or at least sit them down). Because of the Times can most certainly be pegged as a grower, as it does improve upon each listen, and it's certainly more of a mixed bag than their previous albums - but it's frustratingly inconsistent in parts, too. This isn't so much a 'new direction' for Kings of Leon than an unnecessary change of formula that they could have done so much more with.
