Album of the Week: Sleaford Mods – The Demise of Planet X

Recent Sleaford Mods albums Spare Ribs (2021) and UK GRIM (2023) featured guest appearances from like-minded artists including Florence Shaw (Dry Cleaning), Amy Taylor (Amyl & The Sniffers), Billy Nomates and, er, Perry Farrell and Dave Navarro (Jane’s Addiction). As strong as many of those moments were, they functioned largely as exactly that, well-placed cameos.

The Demise of Planet X, the ever-prolific Nottingham duo’s 13th studio album, arrives this week and credits a larger, more diverse group of collaborators whose styles are not necessarily of the same ilk as Jason Williamson and Andrew Fearn. This contrast of supporting characters proves positive early on, with Williamson’s now instantly recognisable East Midlands flow set against New Zealand singer-songwriter Aldous Harding on the excellent Elitest G.O.A.T, a poppy, even summery by Sleaford Mods standards, highlight.

The album opens with The Good Life, featuring actress Gwendoline Christie (Brienne of Tarth in Game of Thrones) in her musical debut alongside punk-funk duo Black Special. It sets the tone for what is an intricately woven patchwork of musical approaches, united by a thematic that remains angry yet at times, unmistakably humorous. There is pathos throughout, and Williamson’s cultural and societal observations are, as ever, sharply cutting. Fearn’s arrangements work their own kind of magic too, introducing greater intricacy and quirk into his propulsive, post-punk, dancefloor-driven pummel. Megaton, for instance, is built around a gurgling, repetitive motif that sounds, to these ears at least, not unlike a jaw-harp.

Perhaps the album’s biggest surprise, and one of its best moments, is the dub-tinged, dance-inspired No Touch, featuring a rare performance from Life Without Buildings singer Sue Tompkins. As with Elitest G.O.A.T, the pairing of Williamson’s urgent, fast-paced, uncut delivery with the sighing, playful, untrained sweetness of Tompkins’ voice is a masterstroke. It works beautifully alongside Fearn’s warm, playful production, an ambient-leaning take on late-’90s pop.

Much of the album’s main strengths lie in the restlessness of its stylistic shifts. The pleasant pop of No Touch gives way to the darker delirium of the skittering, menacing Bad Santa. And further highlights include Double Diamond and Don Draper, which employ a mellower palette built around hip-hop-inspired, loping loops as subtle backdrops that allow space for Williamson’s fiery tirades to breathe, smoulder and transmit.

When Sleaford Mods first entered wider public consciousness just over a decade ago, their abrasive blend of post-punk, hip hop and dance music felt very much of the moment. With this recent trio of albums in the 2020s, it’s a pleasure to hear the band pushing beyond those early boundaries with a curious, offbeat sense of mischief. It remains disheartening, however, that their particular lyrical preoccupations are still so relevant, and hit just as hard, if not harder, today than they did back then.

Sleaford Mods – The Demise of Planet X is out now on vinyl & CD