Not many bands get to a fifth album, bands usually crumble under the weight of expectation or a band endures one trial too many. But Manchester’s most resilient Claw The Thin Ice bring eccentric 90s rock and emotional rattle together on a glorious tandem bike ride through the bands most comprehensive effort.
Already showing capability of morphing for any support slot with Brontide and Michael Cera Palin already in the bag. Fever Dreamer demonstrates clear ability to glide across genres with opening tracks ‘Echo Effect’ and ‘Into The Snare’ driving itself down a highway of 90s alt rock and delicate emo. The crackle of a bass rooted into the arteries helps the bands other attributes twinkle and glisten while the voice of Ian Breen’s infectious delivery is charming but raw, there is a nostalgia in the tone which is comforting but capable of feeling like roads less travelled. A highlight comes from ’10 out of 10 Secret’ which holds the album’s catchiest hook in its chorus with ‘look out here’s my secret’ soaring high above any previous register to secure the track into a guaranteed replay. John Simpson who leads the vocals on the track plays off Breen’s more nasally tone wonderfully with a grittier, more recognisably brit rock quality.
Intentional effort has been made to not shackle themselves to or embrace an ideology which is predictable. Fever Dreamer has stretches of very pleasing alt-rock melting into swathes of noisier and much more hectic emo/post-hardcore territory. ‘Everest’ is a wonderful sample of a sinister personality being embraced with angular guitars and harsher vocals feeling like the much missed Crash of Rhinos. They have found the perfect harmony in fusing angst with their malaise, nostalgic elements are present but they are not obvious to the point of a tribute. There is infectious bounce in its post-punk inspired pace and some of the less appreciated elements of 90s rock and post-hardcore where bands like Unwound would transform from high energy punk into moody toe-tapping anthems, but both feel as important as each other to the bands identity.
The lyrics are tongue in cheek, embracing the relentless monotony of the modern world tinged with the daydreams of simpler times. It signals the outlook of a band who must of felt like the momentum would never return after unending setbacks following 2019’s Colour Phase. In 2025 they embrace the turmoil and have channeled experiences and new found depths of inspiration built by the band themselves and producer magician Joe Clayton (Pijn, Bossk) whose neverending talents have summoned the band’s most charming qualities out into the open to be appreciated and enhanced. Their painstaking vulnerability on display in ‘Sometimes’ is audibly caught in that tightrope between professional and raw it hangs in the air for the airy whispers of Breen to really cut through like an acoustic Taking Back Sunday cut.
It doesn’t matter how many albums it takes to feel like all the parts are moving in the right direction, all that matters is that you get there and Claw The Thin Ice have an album which synergises at a level worthy of propulsion.