When You See Yourself

At best, When You See Yourself is the finest collection Kings Of Leon have put out since their peak years, and at worst a collection of good tunes to listen to this spring and never hear again. That’s a win-win, no matter how you look at it.

We’re unlikely to be totally rid of guitars on a Kings Of Leon album any time soon, but there are more daring rhythms and more sophisticated production here.

When You See Yourself is their most clued-in record in a decade. [Apr 2021, p.88]

It seems that self-examination has taken them to bold, new places. [Apr 2021, p.80]

The band’s ongoing shift away from its scruffy roots into something less easily identifiable is the most notable development here (additional kudos for making the album available as a first-of-its kind NFT). Who knows where it fits in this modern age, but some of it sounds pretty great.

Pretty much every song on When You See Yourself manages to convey what the past few Kings of Leon albums missed. This is an at times muscular, at other times breezy collection of songs, recorded with care, removing bombast and occasionally returning to the rough live sound of their early days.

The moody stateliness of When You See Yourself showcases their knack for building melodrama. The downside to this gift is that the album can seem like an interconnected piece, not a collection of songs. Individual tunes don't float out of the ether so much as fade into another handsome moment that's distinguished by production flair as much as it is by melody or hooks.

The band's eighth album is an arena rock of the mind, tempering the strapping anthemics of hits like "Sex on Fire" and "Use Somebody" for songs that stretch out en route to arriving at a serene kind of swagger. [Mar 2021, p.72]

Feels like the first step in a viable third chapter for a band that has rediscovered its identity. [Apr 2021, p.30]

This is an album that finds progress in small gradients. Subtle in its evolution, Kings Of Leon treat ‘When You See Yourself’ as a means to re-engage with their early bite, yet remain unwilling to cede their place at rock’s top table. As a result, it’s neither the complete break some yearn for, nor an attempt to re-capture the commercial power that emanated around ‘Only By The Night’.

As they’ve grown bigger, their songs have become increasingly interchangeable, and while that’s made for a certain measure of consistency, it’s anything but exciting.

With the band’s musicianship in peak form, it’s Caleb’s songwriting that limits the album’s impact. Marriage and fatherhood have expanded his inner monologue beyond fratboy misogyny and rock-star posturing. But he still doesn’t have much of interest to say.

It’s pleasantly – if forgettably – soporific. The sort of family motorway album that tired parents can hum along to without waking the kids in the back.

There are 11 songs on When You See Yourself, filled with pretty words and lovely tunes, but I would struggle to tell you what any of them are about. Although blessed with a raw, raspy tone that could make a shopping list sound sexy, Followill’s vocals are buried in a bass-heavy mix.

‘When You See Yourself’ sounds like a jolt back into something potentially promising: there could still be life in the old Kings yet.

It’s hard to imagine the wild-maned early incarnation of Kings of Leon even wanting to listen to a band like this, let alone play in one. In truth, their current iteration doesn’t sound all that thrilled about it, either.

After a partly successful reboot with 2016’s Walls, they attempt to build on that for their eighth album by using the same producer, Markus Dravs, but there’s only so much he can do when the raw material he’s working with so often falls short.