The last few years the UK indie scene has seen a creative explosion of progressive pop meets math rock bands: Foals, Bombay Bicycle Club, alt-j, Django Django et al. Everything Everything, are another in this magnificent lineage of distinctly British music, where the tried and tested formulas of classic rock'n'roll are welded onto an adventurous and experimental spirit that manifests itself into something more akin to mini-pop symphonies, the so-called 'New Complexity'. Composition, arrangement, fluidity, and dynamism are to the fore, in creating complex, sometimes clinical music that attempts to satisfy the desire for both melodic sharpness and musical prowess. In the world of Everything Everything, everything indeed does has its place, even the veritable kitchen sink, and with ace pop producer Stuart Price (Madonna, Take That, Kylie Minogue, Scissor Sisters et al) at the helm, Get to Heaven is the third in a series of impressive long players.

 
"So you think there is no meaning in anything we do," are the very first words that come out of wordsmith Jonathan Higgs mouth, perhaps deciding to get the first punch in, just in case there might be any doubters. Higgs is a deep thinker and serial worrier, but this time around, instead of occasionally ranting and railing against the world, his socio-political commentaries and insights carry as many questions as they do answers. Although he is more engaging, looking for clues as it were, he can sometimes be a little too caught up in his own language, a voice that is still a little too idiosyncratic and 'difficult' to perhaps meet the demands of a more mainstream audience; it's hardly sing-a-long stuff. We all need to have a little bit of fun, here and there, even if it's just a sarcastic aside or the occasional bout of silliness, but when it comes to songwriting, Higgs remains resolutely serious… Such as on the gorgeously underplayed musical drama of No Reptiles, a song that sees Higgs switch between indecipherably high speed rap and a much slower, totally decipherable, delivery. "Oh baby it's alright, it's alright to feel like a fat child in a pushchair, old enough to run/Old enough to fire a gun" is the repeating, somewhat opaque lyric (it could be about Higgs as a young boy), as the electronics/synths gradually crescendo, before fading out with a simple drum percussive beat.
 
The voices, as always are to the fore, but not to the extent that the music is suffocated, the band continuing to deliver the goods, musically speaking. For instance, Distant Voices – a song about primal human nature, and no matter how far we progress in our civilisations, we can never escape it – is another great example of their inventiveness; a short intro akin to a Chris Isaak lick, gives way to a dampened drum pad and the the solo voice of Higgs, again doing another high speed rap, before three speaking voices take it in turns. And then the stabbing keys turn this into a driving dance number, hands in the air type stuff. It's heady stuff, the band exploring the possibilities of song without getting too weird or wired. It works, it all fits, and Distant Past is the pinnacle of their achievements so far.
 
Elsewhere, the title track, is a tropically infused melange of caribbean guitar picking, whistling, and percussion. It's a relatively light-hearted and straightforward tune from EE, before a change of tack, a most unlikely guitar interplay, one of them not a million miles away from the Beafhertian tones of Zoot Horn Rollo, before it returns to the original groove and melody. Highly impressive and interesting, while Regret, already released as a single, is perhaps the most pop-friendly track: 'Did you imagine it in a different way/Did you think that everything, everything would change," Higgs cheekily slipping the name of the band into the lyrics….
 
Meanwhile, Spring/Sun/Winter/Dread speaks of change and ageing: "I don't want to get older. No way," Higgs' voice committing itself to some serious gymnastics, even going as far as taking on the stylisms (as he does elsewhere) of ragga, as once again guitarist Alex Robertshaw shows us some tasty licks. Certainly, he has grown as guitarist, and his rhythms, textures and lines embellish the album to a greeter degree than before. It's also a jaunty little number, although Higgs' distinctive voice sounds like it's free-styling a little too much, unable to ally itself with the seamless musicality on this occasion.
 
Album highlight The Wheel (Is Turning Now), is leftfield, elasticated r'n'b dance, one of the more fluid groovers, seemingly about Nigel Farrage and UKIP (he is not a fan…) before it deftly changes tempo and tack, into a more standard, and grooving indie-rocker. This goes back and forth before it segues into a deeper, and darker technoesque pulser for the last couple of minutes, growing more distorted and disorientating, again showing the band to be not afraid at all of trying things out, and succeeding in turning already good songs, into great ones.
 
It doesn't always work; Fortune 500 is relatively leaden, despite the adventurous use of brass and strings effects allied to a stomping hard house beat, while Blast Doors fails to, er, blast off, again Higgs turning on the rap delivery, before getting out his best falsetto, the band somewhat atypically muted, the disparate sections of the song not truly gelling. But the bar has been raised high, and it's difficult to be overly critical of minor shortcomings.
 
As you would expect from a Stuart Price production, Get to Heaven has a clinical and polished sound, in keeping with the almost invariably adventurous songs and complex structures of a band who are getting better with each release. Higg's singing may be a bit of an acquired taste, and sometimes you wish he would lighten up just a bit, but there's no denying that what they make together is both extraordinary, and at times, utterly unique.
Jeff Hemmings