For me, Rudimental are one of the most frustrating bands out there at the moment. For a band to explode onto the scene with two such anthemic tracks like Feel The Love or Waiting All Night, but then not to follow it up with an as-good album, was hugely disappointing. The ‘drum and bass’ group then milked their debut for a few years, disappointed me three times with their live performances, before finally getting round to releasing new material a few years later in the form of the second album- We The Generation.
It may seem like my opinion is already biased, but I really
am, was, am, was a fan of Rudimental. However, I genuinely haven’t seen a greater fall from grace between two albums than with Rudimental. While Home had its moments, such as with the aforementioned, as well as a few other jams such as Not Giving In, for me it’s been nothing but a steady decline since then. This decline has unfortunately spilled into Rudimental’s sophomore, and is no more epitomised by the uninteresting single and opening track I Will For Love. Attempting to shamelessly mimic the formula of past successes, the track is stale and easily forgotten.
Despite professing to be some kind of take on drum and bass, I’ve always felt like there’s been something lacking in Rudimental’s music. It’s taken me a while to work it out, but I’ve finally realised that Rudimental’s music lacks actual bass. The manic crashing of cymbals are there, but the accompanying bass is laughably missing, giving every track a horrible sense of absence, each falling flat and rubbing off as uninteresting. And while the blatantly obvious exclusion of bass is a factor, its the group’s lifeless songwriting (Foreign World, We The Generation) which illustrates an incredibly unstimulating and ultimately forgettable album.
We The Generation drags itself along with enthusiasm disguised as strenuous vocalists and brass accompaniment. The now-falsely-asigned image of Rudimental is passion and love, but nothing about this album conveys either of these things. All That Love particularly bores, as does the Dizzee Rascal-featuring Love Ain’t Just A Word, which drags him into the pit of a bore that is this album. We The Generation is notably colourless and dull, the album is a blank hour and a half of cymbals, and at the very very best is nothing more than done-before pop.
Verdict – W