For reasons that elude me, The Rapture is one of those bands that I am quick to dismiss with each successive album. And, after giving myself a swift kick to the ass – no easy feat might I add, I am quick to admit that immediately poo-pooing them was wrongheaded.
New York City post-disco dance punk didn’t age particularly well. Most bands quickly found they had to constantly reinvent the sound of crashy hi-hat beats to remain relevant (LCD Soundsystem) or else they simply crashed into the wayside and started to fiercely suck (Hot Hot Heat).
However on In The Grace Of Your Love, The Rapture – who have slimmed down to a three-piece – sound as urgent as ever. The hooks are immediate and the songs still bang to the tune of an impromptu 4 a.m. dance party. There is certainly no “House Of Jealous Lovers” to be found here, but that’s not a bad thing. One of the worst things a band can do is try to hold onto their youth via their songwriting. In The Grace Of Your Love tips a gentlemanly top hat towards a youth well-spent while still giv’n’er balls deep.