Angel in Realtime

Outwardly, Gang of Youths’ third album is one about grief – specifically the grief stemming from the death of Le’aupepe’s father. But more than that, it’s a moving and deeply personal exploration of the innate flaws of the human condition; of failing the ones you love despite your best intentions, and of falling apart and beginning the slow and painful process of piecing yourself back together again afterwards.

It’s easy to see why Sam Fender took the outfit out on his recent UK arena jaunt, possessed as they are with heartfelt songs based in place and time, with a few fist-to-the-chest moments.

They've burst out of the confines of "rock" to make something that's legitimately transcendent. angel in realtime is a profoundly beautiful, meaningful album from a band that has decided that every record might as well be a new magnum opus.

The record's well-meaning earnestness is a little overwhelming, but it's the stuffed-crust arrangements that really grate, everything happening at once, and often for too long. [Apr 2022, p.81]

Dig into it deeper and you’ll find a surprisingly rewarding account tell-all that sounds like an extraordinary premise to a film. And the score they write for themselves, as thrilling as it is, can be somewhat overwrought at times, resulting in an aural mood that could've used some dramatic nuance.

At its best, angel in realtime. so convincingly sells his grand vision of the world that it’s easy to accept the grandiose production, too. The whole gambit is so outsized that, even when it only kind of works, it feels like a victory.

With Angel in Realtime, Gang of Youths have elevated their work to new echelons of arena rock potential. Listening to it from start to finish is something genuinely satisfying.

This album is so pure, so deeply felt that cynicism and pre-prepared anti-hype will just slide off it like a light breeze; that even low points like the clunky, ridiculous "returner" - the band's worst song, as if that means a lot for a band who've never made a bad one – barely make a dent. It's the finest work by a band finally mature enough to trust in sound and texture and feeling, and in good time it will outrun any lingering reputation and be crowned as a masterpiece.