The latest band to get a whole bunch of English people’s knickers twisted just reached the legal drinking age in the U.S. That means White Lies were born at least five years after most of the groups they sound like started to fizzle out. Moody, gloomy, and full of big, anthemic guitars, the songs on To Lose My Life range from bizarre (the ghostly lovers’ spat of “Unfinished Business”) to WTF (“E.S.T.” is all about electroshock therapy). But it’s the trio’s somber synths and singer Harry McVeigh’s mournful baritone that drive home the band’s gothtastic point: Death really becomes them. “Blood,” “dead” and variations on these words show up every five minutes or so. Still, it’s not all doom ’n’ gloom — despite its pithy title, “Death” is actually kinda jolly. And you can almost hear a smile breaking out during the chorus of “A Place to Hide.” Misery occasionally likes a little cheery company.
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