The K’s – I Wonder if the World Knows

Last Friday, Earlstown band The K’s released their debut album, ‘I Wonder If The World Knows’ via LAB Records. What followed has been a titanic battle with The Libertines for the number-one album spot.

Image nad artwork courtesy of Sonic PR & Halestorm PR.

The Libertines’ debut album, ‘Up The Bracket’, captured the imagination of a generation twenty-two years ago. Its thoughtful rawness and poetic hit reset on a bloated Britpop and toxic nu-metal scene. 2024 is in a different galaxy to 2002, and so, for The K’s, their debut album is less about reimagining Albion and more about their survival within it.

In this environment, the pressure on bands to run to a perceived middle has often been too great, resulting in beige output. The K’s, like The Simpsons, CM Punk, and Martin Scorsese, always managed to walk the mainstream and underground tightrope simultaneously. Hinged on the partnership between singer-songwriter Jamie Boyle and lead guitarist Ryan Breslin, they take gritty anthems akin to The Jam and The Courteeners (circa St. Jude), such as ‘Hometown’. ‘Heart On My Sleeve’, and ‘Circles’ toward Blossoms, U2, and pop music.

Former single ‘Hometown’ witnesses a flawed protagonist embroiled in a downward spiral (“He’s so easily persuaded by his need to feel sedated / and the only way to get it is to empty all his wages”) set to blistering guitars. Just another indie-rock single? In truth, kind of, but, through Boyle’s vocals, the offshoots of something special lay. Straying between infectious, aggressive, and defiant, he adds another dimension to said blueprint.  

The fire of their early singles continues on ‘Heart On My Sleeve’. Imbued with desperation and enthralled by sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll, Boyle lays bare troubled co-dependence with people and alcohol. His tortured soul, threatening to go under at several points, is made utterly engrossing by Breslin’s guitars. Then, on ‘Circles, ’ Breslin takes his live showmanship to the studio, and The K’s begin to shed the angst-ridden debut album skin. Breslin, so adept, finds a way to make The Courteeners and The Enemy sound like U2. Throw in Boyle’s lyrical desperation to succeed, his Madonna via Phil Spector Girl Group vocal, and The K’s life as a cinematic force has begun.

The transcendence continues the album's big set pieces. ‘Hoping Maybe’ grows with Andrew Cushin's aching beauty and a modern take on the crooning glee of ‘Coles Corner'-era Hawley. Breslin’s guitars shimmer in moonlight skies as the band steps into the mainstream with rock classism at its finest.

In the age of destructive post-punk, where vocals have been a blurred mesh of spoken word and snarling punk, The K’s emergence is a game changer. This change is cemented on the ‘Lights Go Down’. It is a big romantic musical number, the kind that dangles a carrot in the middle of the road to come into a more exciting world. From Burt Bacharach to Noel Gallagher, to Scott Walker, they’ve written a song which will play out to England’s glorious defeat in World Cups for years to come.

There's an aching amplitude flickering needles and hearts alike throughout this fine debut album. Boyle’s diary entry-style lyrics and Breslin’s soaring universality allow people to attach their meaning to their anthems. It's a different world to the one The Libertines launched into, but The Ks have given rock ‘n’ roll an emotive anchor to Arcadia once more.