Review by Gareth Roberts

A searing statement from selfless scene stalwarts.

Now that I’ve spent my alliterative cache on that opening gambit (it’s the only skill I remember from the middling A-level media studies grade I barely scraped), let’s dive straight into the third full-length offering from noisy noodlers (see!) and all-round great bunch of lads* a-tota-so.

Death Rattle, Form of Mass and Masks form the album’s opening salvo (there’s something about having your lead tracks serve as pre-release singles in the very same chronological order that really does tickle the part of my brain that craves order, so a weird form of kudos is absolutely due there) with Marty Toner taking up chief vocal duties for the first time, and the “flavour” of his voice (effortlessly switching from laconic drawl to snarling ferocity) adds a very complimentary character to both the moment-to-moment musical shifts and the oft-epigrammatic** lyrics.

Where Death Rattle feels like a nihilistic waltz that builds to an abrupt crash, Form of Mass serves as antonym to its precursor, starting at a spirited bounce before gradually (but raucously) applying brakes to its end.

Masks is a definite standout (and a personal favourite), the first half of which conjures up fond memories of Hurrah…-era Youthmovies before exploding into the album’s most furious and growling refrain.

But hey, don’t just take my word for it! All three tunes are out there in the ether right now, freshly baked for your feverish consumption, and consume you should.

GRLD follows with another from the throttle-back-before-big-finish playbook before the more concise Traced Lines (personal pick #2, here) moves into a steadier, driving rhythm whilst showcasing some utterly thunderous, big “ooft” face-inducing drumming (ably knitted together with precise bass-work).

No Tears No Sound feels fresh from an ambitious jam session but remains so crammed with ideas that it never tires or outstays its welcome.

Swiftly followed by Exit Wounds (an absolutely gorgeous opening riff to be found in this one) which at first sounds like the band giving itself a well-earned breather, but normal service promptly resumes as these chaps don’t tend to favour hanging around when there’s great big honking noises to be made.

So then to closer Raykens. A well-worn but no less welcome formula musically at this point, but one that opts to end on a more uplifting note; “Stay strong, there is hope for us all”.

Big crowd sing-along potential on that one, for my money. Make it happen, good people.

There is a sense of raw honesty that accompanies the anger imbued throughout I Told You So but the signature playfulness of the band is never sacrificed to it, a testament perhaps to just how well-honed a-tota-so’s craft is.

They have put the hard yards in and it shows, and more often than not those hard yards have been spent championing their compatriots as much as themselves; following the framework laid out in their previous album Lights Out which featured a guest vocalist on every track, a-tota-so are on a seemingly relentless mission to have the most singers ever (though surely they will ultimately struggle to overthrow Ladysmith Black Mambazo) by repeating this approach live wherever possible.

I believe the number is currently nearing 100 guest singers, and having caught this spectacle myself on several occasions, it is always a treat and just another reason (as if more were needed!) to catch the a-tota-so live experience whenever and wherever the opportunity arises.

So, to summarise, it’s great to see a-tota-so advocate for themselves in the same manner they so earnestly have for so many others for so long.

If ever there was an album that deserved its flowers, you’d be hard-pushed to look past I Told You So.

*In the interest of journalistic integrity, your humble author was specifically requested to give a “brutally honest” assessment of this album; thus, it is only fair that I attempt to curb any unconscious bias by downgrading it from a 12/10 to an 11/10. So, here’s at least one institution whose lack of transparency won’t be upsetting UEFA anytime soon.

**For each of my reviews, I run the worst of my word-vomit offenders through a robust “pretension test” i.e. my wife. Given in this instance she only rolled her eyes at me rather than resort to physical violence, “epigrammatic” does indeed pass the test.