Ear Buzz to Royal Blood: "How Am I Supposed To Figure This Out?"

Taken as a rough edged powder keg fixing to explode at any minute Brighton UK's Royal Blood's "Figure It Out" leaves an indelible imprint on the brain. That's favorable fortune because if you lean in too closely to the lyrics you'll suffer migraines from the banging against a wall your head's likely to become a victim of. Right off the bat lead vocalist Mike Kerr is making hot, sweaty love to the microphone. That's not the kind of background garage vibe I was aching for. Modern garage rock is one of the genres these blokes fall under. The engine in this garage is overheating a bit too much to be enjoyed in the cold light of day. Not only that the title pops up an unsettling number of times. Are Mike and drummer Ben Thatcher afraid to leave those words alone for any longer than a few seconds lest they free themselves from the porch and go screaming into the night? Mike's bass is plenty vicious. One point for his band. Ben's drums ignite adrenaline on a regular basis. But back to the lyrics on printed page. Is "trying to cuss and see" a kind of British slang of epic proportions? Does either them know their way around a cuss word hence the "trying" suggestion? If they're focused so supremely on cussing how can they see anything? What's there to be seen? The changing of the Royal Guard? Bangers and mash? I recommend the twosome figure out what they're trying to communicate before jotting it down in slapdash fashion. What are they trying to figure out in the second verse? There's a romance element I gather. He has nothing better to do. He sits there trying to figure out. Maybe Royal Blood is counting on you all abandoning any notion of having a Eureka moment which I guess leaves you free to get your ya yas off on the uncompromising playing at work. After a long day busting rocks at the quarry is excessive brain melt really necessary? He's going to let it drop because he won't see her later. He's not allowed to talk it out. Where did repression ever lead to for anyone? Those anger issues are going to backfire someday. "Figure It Out" makes strides when the bass and drum tag team are left alone together to provide suitable discomfort to the masses who may have been expecting another prissy band from across the pond. The amp end of this puzzle teases us with an off the beaten path ride we could have a front row seat for. The lyrics try to be profound, on a molecular level. Bad news is that mission flunked miserably. We get a Where's Waldo game instead. One minute he tried to figure it out. The next he's barred from talking it out. Along the way he's taking a bet on her that supposedly she didn't know about. This is what happens when artists are too deep in their own heads. They think they've got something bold to impart, flipped around Rubik's Cube style. To us mere mortals there's a premium in this day and age on both making and getting to the point. The tragic end result of this exercise is I have to figure out why I spent three minutes of my life wrestling with this song. Not much to conclude except...go figure. Royal Blood's caffeine based voyage into the soul should've been left at the dock. The blood's gone cold. The figure that has been cut here isn't pretty in the slightest.