Chameleons: Arctic Moon – Review – ALBUM OF THE WEEK!

Since they first emerged in 1981, Chameleons have often been described as the most underrated band of their generation. But now, the release of their fifth studio album could finally bring them the acclaim they deserve. Robert Plummer hails their rebirth.

Who says you only live twice? After languishing for decades as the nearly men of post-punk, Manchester’s Chameleons are now in their third incarnation. And this time, undoubtedly, they’re living their best life.

Time has taken its toll on the original line-up, remembered for their three genre-defining 1980s albums and their short-lived early 2000s reformation. However, vocalist, lyricist and bass player Vox (Mark Burgess) remains at the helm, still accompanied by guitarist Reg Smithies. Second guitarist Stephen Rice, drummer Todd Demma and keyboardist Danny Ashberry complete the squad.

Once they started gigging again in 2021, Chameleons quickly outgrew their cult status and found a new, younger audience. Arctic Moon finds them well placed to capitalise on that wave of renewed interest. Not that they’re content to rest on past laurels – fresh blood and fresh influences have made their sound more rounded and three-dimensional, producing their most expressive record yet.

Chiming, cheering guitars and muscular riffs are filtered through a deep melancholy: this is the sound of summer turning slowly yet ineluctably into autumn. It’s a perfect showcase for Vox’s dissections of twisted, tortured relationships. “I need someone who’s not afraid/Of this dark dynamic we have made,” he sings on the opening track, Where Are You?

Emotions have always gone sour in the best post-punk songs, but the narrative thread of tainted love runs right through this album. “You can beat me black and blue/But I still wouldn’t change a thing/About You,” insists Vox as he evokes the appropriately named Lady Strange. Still, the song’s submissive subtext is buried by its uplifting chorus and dreamlike, drifting interludes.

Free Me, perhaps the closest Chameleons have come to a stadium ballad, tells a tale of heartbreak as a lover walks out on “an empty dream of paradise”. Once again, the effect is bittersweet: how can the end of an affair inspire such lightness of being? On the other hand, Magnolia’s sparse, star-crossed, bass-heavy sound is a more appropriate vehicle for its message of despair: “My soul is dead without you/What did I do?”

Elsewhere, other forms of angst are available. It Feels Like The End Of The World has a sumptuous string-laden arrangement that belies its mood of existential dread. “History burns, but no-one learns,” we are told, while promises of “pie in the sky when you die” mean nothing.

It all leads up to the album’s longest and most ambitious song, David Bowie Takes My Hand. This eight-and-a-half-minute epic builds slowly, its tentative intro recalling Major Tom’s hesitant spacewalk. Like the title, though, that turns out to be a red herring: neither the boy from Brixton nor the loneliness of the cosmos feature in the lyrics.

The scenario is a bleak one: bereft of love, the song’s protagonist is sinking (in the quicksand of his thoughts?) and wants to be pulled out. “I wish I could fight/Against the dying of the light,” he implores as the music ascends to a celestial plateau, complete with choir and orchestra.

After that, a touch of comic relief is welcome, and it comes in the shape of closing number Saviours Are A Dangerous Thing. A takedown of spiritual snake-oil salesmen everywhere, its cavalcade of whimsical imagery could apply to any number of false prophets and phony leaders. “All the monkeys part to let him pass/He thinks he’s Jesus riding on an ass,” runs the lyric: remind you of anyone?

Arctic Moon has a good claim to be Chameleons’ best album yet: it has breadth, maturity, sophistication and not a single weak track. Time to stop thinking of them as “coulda been contenders” – they’re back in contention now, with an energy that shames many a younger band. Catch them while you can.

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You can find Chameleons online at https://chameleonsband.com/. They are also on Instagram here.

All words by Robert Plummer. More writing by Robert can be found at his author’s archive. He is also on X as @robertp926.