'Langzamer': Slacker Rock In A Sharp New Suit

Bristol-based alt-rock heroes Langkamer have, for the last three years, developed an extraordinary knack for song writing. With their newest album, ‘Langzamer’, acting as their third full-length release in as many years, the band seems to have effortlessly fine-tuned their infectious slacker rock routine. 

Recording their latest album alongside Ben Woods (The Golden Dregs), the band has created a collection of songs that feel slightly more sophisticated than their previous releases, swapping their dainty rhythms and playful guitar noodling for an altogether more confessional and deliberate approach. 

‘Langzamer’ is a blissful contemplation, still fuelled by the same playful character that has defined the band’s overall output. It’s the same old slacker, baggy jeans, the same old basement sound—but this time, it’s dressed in a far more practical  attire , a tuxedo perhaps, that still befits the grooves and grazes of a band who have matured into their DIY ethos.

The album begins with the track ‘Heart Of Tin’, which instantly draws us in with a fuzzy, overdriven guitar line and quintessentially conversational vocals. Opening with the lines “Do you want the good news or the bad news first / both bad news but the bad is worse,” the track immediately transports us into the incredibly introspective lyrical world that this album bravely inhabits. Whether it's thoughts of loss, grief, or whether Jackie Chan does or doesn’t pay his taxes, there’s a lot to unpack in the way lead singer Joshua Jarman flippantly contemplates life’s most difficult discussions with a charming touch. Similar to the previously released track 'Aberfan’, tracks like ‘Richard E Grant’ and ‘Taking Stones To Joe’s House’ vanish behind an unusually successful grungy appeal, gently leaning into a world of garage rock that is only complemented by muted telephone vocals and the band’s exhausting rhythmic choices.

As the album progresses, it further reveals its rich tapestry of sound and sentiment. Tracks like ‘Double Island' and ‘Salvation XL’ lean into a wistful world of jangly guitars and melancholy, pulling us into a bittersweet melody that beautifully contrasts the band’s often cheerful exchanges. Langkamer excel here, balancing the kind of lazy, lo-fi swagger they’ve become known for with a newfound vulnerability that feels strikingly raw. There’s still plenty of that signature tongue-in-cheek wit and downright ridiculous anecdotes, but now it’s framed within moments of earnest confession, giving the album a subtle weight that their previous efforts weren’t aiming to achieve.

What makes ‘Langzamer’ such a compelling listen is its effortless balance between light and dark, humour and headache, slacker nonchalance and earnest introspection. While the bands  earlier work leaned heavily on their laid-back charm, this album finds them embracing a more reflective, almost confessional tone, without ever abandoning the playful irreverence that made them stand out in the first place. The DIY ethos is still at the core, but the edges feel sharper, the emotions more focused, and this stands out in  one of the album’s finest tracks, 'At The Lake'. The soft, stripped-back verses build into a soaring waltz above the clouds, a defining statement of their capabilities as songwriters, but a fantastic display of how at a slower pace, Langkamer's charm and character is only amplified. 

In the end, 'Langzamer’ is a confident leap forward for Langkamer—a record that takes their scrappy, slacker rock origins and refines them into something more profound and purposeful. It’s still got that woozy charm and slouched posture, but now there’s balance to the cause, patience in the sound, and a sense that, even as they swagger from song to song, they’re aware of the weight that each word is carrying.

Ewan Bourne

 @doubleyellow__

Image: ‘Langzamer’ Official Album Cover