If it weren’t for Caleb’s distinctive mid-register Tennessee drawl, one would be forgiven for thinking these 13 songs came from a different band entirely. The hard sonic pivot on O My Beloved is immediately reminiscent of similar shrewd shifts that Kings of Leon’s presumptive peers have undergone during the 2020s. Mumford & Sons’ surprisingly pleasing and Dessner-ified Prizefighter from earlier this year comes to mind, as does the Killers’ energizing turn towards War on Drugs-isms on 2020’s big-screen Americana trip Imploding the Mirage.
But the most curious recollection triggered by O My Beloved’s often-sparse and acoustic-led tunes is Kings of Leon themselves—specifically, the lovely “Talihina Sky,” the closing track and sole outlier on 2003’s otherwise shit-kicking album Youth and Young Manhood. The group’s recent collaborations with bro-choice emo-country superstar Zach Bryan certainly nudged them further in this new direction; the moonlit “Pretty Thing” is reminiscent of Bryan’s most intimate work, while Caleb’s vocals are positively buttery on “Feel the Love,” accentuated by a just-right dosage of six-stringed squiggling supplied by cousin Matthew.
The front-porch and (current-gen indie-blasphemy alert) Hovvdy-ish vibes are indeed high across O My Beloved’s casually romantic chassis—but Kings of Leon are still prone to occasionally rocking out, for better or worse. “Make It Count” takes the shape of a slowly unfolding barnburner while retaining a small-scale charm, and “Count It Down” has an alt-country shagginess that would fit nicely alongside the pack-a-day sonic trend ruling present-day indie rock. But the plodding “Warm Company” feels dirge-like compared to what surrounds it; the cresting and very “Use Somebody”-esque chorus of “Blue Jeans and Diamonds” undermines its own orchestral tenderness via the specter of Kings of Leon’s late-2000s sound.
Old habits may die hard, but the temptation to afford the Followills a bit of grace during O My Beloved’s lower points remains strong. Despite the relative quality of their output across the last decade and a half, they’ve remained an enormously successful band amid the ebbs and flows of modern rock; if they chose to stay the course, few would bat an eyelash. Instead, Kings of Leon are revitalized with a new and rich maturity on O My Beloved, and for the first time in forever, they’ve become an entity to ignore at your own risk.