White Lies - As I Try Not To Fall Apart (LP)

White Lies have always thrived on that tension between pretty synth light and heavy lyrical weather, and As I Try Not To Fall Apart sharpens the contrast in a way that feels both bracing and strangely comforting. Released in February 2022 on PIAS, their sixth album finds the trio of Harry McVeigh, Charles Cave, and Jack Lawrence-Brown leaning into big melodies while poking at frailty, fear, and the gallows humour that keeps those things at bay. It is an album that sounds huge without feeling hollow, a neat trick for a band twelve-plus years into a career that started with a UK Number 1.

The title track does exactly what you want a White Lies single to do. McVeigh’s baritone rides a bright, chiming guitar figure, the chorus surges, and the rhythm section locks into a pulse that would suit a late-night festival field. It is crisp and clean, but there is a bite to the arrangement that keeps it from drifting into polite territory. You can hear producer Ed Buller’s flair for drama in the way the keyboards bloom just as the chorus lands. Buller has worked with Suede and Pulp, and that sense of widescreen theatre suits White Lies down to the ground.

Then there is I Don’t Want To Go To Mars, which struts on a tough bassline and a wonky synth hook that feels equal parts playful and fed up with billionaire space talk. The band have always been good at stitching irony into their anthems, and this one spins on that knack. Claudius Mittendorfer, who also produced the record and has credits with Interpol and Temples, gives it a clean sheen that still lets the drums thump. Jack Lawrence-Brown’s playing here is a reminder that a steady hand often hits hardest.

Am I Really Going To Die might have the most arresting title of the lot, but the song itself is quietly euphoric. The guitars glint, the synths shimmer, and McVeigh sings like he is trying to will the fear into a shape he can hold. White Lies have always written about mortality with a directness that feels very English, and Charles Cave’s lyrics keep that line running. No melodrama for its own sake, just the big stuff taken seriously and set to choruses you can hum on the tram home.

Blue Drift feels like the album’s late-night core. It is the most synth-forward cut here, a cool glide that lets the bass do the talking. There is a soft neon glow to it, the sort of track that quietly becomes a fan favourite because it scratches a different itch without breaking the spell of the record. Roll December and Breathe push that balance of weight and lift too, keeping the pacing tight and the mood shifting without lurches.

What impresses most is how the record squares up to melancholy while still playing like a pop album. The hooks are front and centre. The production is sharp. But the edges are intact. That is down to a clear understanding of what makes White Lies tick. McVeigh’s voice is recorded warm and close. The guitars chime rather than roar. The synths carry real melodic load, and the rhythm section keeps everything on rails. You could pick out a dozen small touches that reward repeat listens, little counter-melodies slipping in and out of focus.

On vinyl, that interplay blooms. The low end has room, the snares snap, and those stacked vocals on the bigger choruses stand taller. If you are crate digging at a Melbourne record store, As I Try Not To Fall Apart vinyl earns its shelf space next to the band’s early standouts. It is also an easy recommendation if you want to buy White Lies records online, especially if you are building a run of White Lies albums on vinyl that shows how the band shifted from stark post-punk revival roots into something more colourful. Add this to a basket with a couple of other favourites and you have a neat snapshot of the last decade of clever UK guitar pop with synth shoulders. For anyone hunting through vinyl records Australia wide, this is a tidy pick that plays well loud and late.

As a whole, the album sits in that sweet spot where longtime fans get what they came for while the curious will find a welcoming entry point. It is not trying to reinvent the band, just refine and refocus. In 2022, with the world still somewhere between sigh and scream, that felt right. It still does. And if you want a simple litmus test, drop the needle on the title track, then cue Blue Drift. If both hit, you are in the right place. If they do not, maybe you never liked White Lies to begin with. Either way, As I Try Not To Fall Apart stands tall in their catalogue and makes a strong case for keeping White Lies vinyl within easy reach.