Ash tend to get a pretty raw deal. They seem to have spent the past few years taking criticism for not sounding like they did when they were eighteen. Although they’ve clearly tried to evolve their sound, many people have just ignored their new work and gone back to listening to 1977. ‘Carnal Love’, the latest release in their A-Z singles series, is likely to generate pretty much the same reaction – and I can’t quite figure out if it deserves that or not. It certainly has its flaws; the verses are far too saccharine, both musically and lyrically, with Tim Wheeler opening the song by crooning, ‘Sweet thing, graceful beauty of a seraphim.’ But this leads into the pleasing sing-along chorus: ‘It’s carnal love that I’m thinking of; I’m addicted to your sweet stuff’. This might also sound cheesy, but it works nicely in what is essentially a power ballad; it’s reminiscent of the more tongue in cheek material from The Darkness’ first album. While it’s not clear whether Ash intend it to be taken seriously or not, this song should definitely be treated as a joke; embrace the silliness and it’s really quite enjoyable.
‘So long my weekday lover,’ singer Lewis Bowman coos, ‘you have been so unkind to me.’ An opening kiss-off over a lackadaisical sonic backdrop of droning guitars that accentuate the killer hook of: ‘Dust in my heart, dust in my veins / I strayed too far into a dream.’ These words loaded with danger, these guitars ready to spill into discord, are pulled back from the brink throughout – and you can’t help but wish that they’d let the dream take them over. The rising and falling waves of white noise, the whistling feedback, the urgent rhythm, are all tempered by a wet melody and too-articulate vox that lends it the charm of an Ash album track, when their aim seems closer to the Pumpkins’ ‘1979’. It’s the problem of a Brit accent – the talk-singing style that works so well for Americans just ends up sounding weak, soft, public-school pedestrian. The result is that what could have been a rolling noise-pop ballad akin to the Breeders, or even MBV at their most concise, trades dramatic turbulence for a daylight daze into those private thoughts drawn from the everyday – evocative, calming, some kind of beautiful, but ultimately fleeting.
