Opening with the aptly named track ‘Deep Cuts’, the eighth studio album from imperishable You Me At Six, ‘Truth Decay’, represents a cathartically anthological retrospective of their journey, through the best part of 20 years in the British rock scene. The direction of an eighth album is somewhat unchartered territory for your average 00’s born alt-rock outfit and, gratifyingly, You Me At Six have used this platform as an ode to their longstanding fanbase, an elevated love-letter and the scene that nurtured and bolstered them to their dizzying chart-topping heights. ‘Truth Decay’ is sprinkled with self-referential sounds, evidently tapping back into their original influences, cherry-picking and then polishing the stand-out elements from their previous records, to create a nostalgic yet matured sonic landscape.
The body of work boasts a notable return to the guitar to the limelight, embracing heavier elements from hard rock and post-hardcore, which they have shied away from in their more recent experimentally exploratory albums that have delved into wider hip-hop and electronic prospects. Across the album’s span, the riff-driven sound delves into various tones and textures to showcase Max Helyer and Chris Miller’s instrumental prowess, paired with Josh Franceschi’s signature serenading melodic vocal style, to create an abundance of cohesive, hooky, enjoyable tracks.
The reclamation of their origins is felt immediately, with ‘Deep Cuts’ and ‘God Bless The 90s Kids’ able to sit comfortably at the table alongside their pop-punk-powered early offerings. In true You Me At Six fashion, the album is chock full of emotionally charged singalong anthems in ‘Mixed Emotions (I Didn’t Know How To Tell You What I Was Going Through)’ and a title reminiscent of Fall Out Boy ‘Who Needs Revenge When I’ve Got Ellen Rae’, pouring with Franceschi’s emotion-laden woah’s, ready to be dutifully roared back by crowds in venues across the country.
The inclusion of artist collaborations from across the scene continues the themes of retrospection melded with progression, both paying homage to the scene’s history and showcasing what there is to look forward to. The former reflected in the audacious ‘No Future? Yeah Right’, with fellow British rock stalwart Rou Reynolds and the latter with ‘A Love Letter To Those Who Feel Lost’, paired with ethereal vocals courtesy of swiftly ascending rave punk prodigy Cody Frost.
The echoes of their explorations into new genre territories are artfully weaved throughout the album, with the restrained inclusion of synth and electronic, most notably found on ‘heartLESS’ and ‘Ultraviolence’.
Fingerprints of their past are scattered across the body of work, satiating their evolving yet loyal fanbase without using it as a crutch. ‘Truth Decay’ embodies a contemporised reclamation of their own identity; an honest and refined renaissance.
KAT FERRIS