How Much Of The Jungle Album Do You Actually Need To Listen To?

By Tamara Roper

Faceless front men and an aesthetic arguably more memorable than the songs they’ve produced, Jungle released their massively anticipated self-titled debut on Monday.

Of the twelve tracks on Jungle, we’ve heard six and seen four made into music videos that celebrate youth, age, and adidas. The breakdancing babies and the old men who defy any notion of arthritis; Jungle have got the best audio-visual package of any band around at the moment.

But how do T and J’s new tracks match up to the soul-funk expectations we’ve gathered from the UK’s ‘most mysterious’ duo? Does the album conjure up images of circus performers doing the can-can, or make you wish you were dancing on talcum powder in a Motown dancehall in Wigan? Instead of reviewing the whole thing (mainly because you've already heard half of it), here's a track-by-track break down of the new stuff. 

Track 2 - Accelerate: After the sweaty dive in of opener The Heat, Accelerate does everything but. It’s mellow, like the calm after the storm, though it’s placed a little too early on in the album to be slowing things down.

6/10

Track 7 - Smoking Pixels: Smoking Pixels, we think, is supposed to act as an interlude. It sits smack bang in the middle of the album, after three of arguably the strongest tracks are out of the way. It sounds like a trailer for a Quentin Tarantino film, the musical equivalent of which doesn't follow through. Disappointing hype.  

4/10

Track 8 – Julia: After the promise of Smoking Pixels’ atmospheric build up and ominous whistling, we’re landed with Julia, which is an unattractively uncoordinated homage to someone who Jungle lament knowing nothing about. Sob.  It lacks both emotion or personality, traits that surely run as a necessity to songs about girls.

5/10

Track 9 - Crumbler

C’MON LADS! Much better. This is feet on the dashboard with windows down on an empty road driving music, AKA the chill stuff that every summer make-out soundtrack needs. It's warm with anticipation and a mirage of trippy colours- a track that will no doubt bring arms around each other when played live. Hope is restored.

8.5/10

Track 10 - Son Of A Gun

Rolling on in the mellow vein that Crumbler leads with, Son Of A Gun borrows traits from the likes of Dire Straits, and brings some strangley welcome melancholy to the album. It works, though is a bit bore-off by three minutes in. Bring. Back. The. Funk.

7/10

Track 12 - Lemonade Lake

Points for apt titling, Lemonade Lake truly feels like something from the Willy Wonka soundtrack. It’s dowsed in sugar, gloopy and overly saturated like a Haribo Tangfastic. There’s a fantastical element to it, and it serves as an interesting end to what can only be described as a Woolworth’s style pick ‘n’ mix of an album.

7.5/10