Review: “Echoes” by Klaxons – A Sonic Dream Through Space and Time

Back in 2010, Klaxons returned after a long silence with Echoes, a track that didn’t just follow up their early hype — it reintroduced them with sharper edges and clearer purpose. No more neon chaos, no more trying to define “new rave.” This was something else. Something heavier, but more focused. The sound of a band that had seen the glow wear off and decided to walk deeper into the unknown instead of turning back.

Echoes opens like it’s waking up in space. The synths stretch wide and float. Guitars cut through with clarity, not noise. Then the vocals land — steady, a little distant, but dead-on. Jamie Reynolds isn’t shouting anymore. He’s delivering. There’s no panic in his tone. Just urgency. That matters. It changes how the track hits.

It’s still Klaxons, but there’s more control. The energy doesn’t explode — it moves forward. Calculated, not chaotic. And that’s what makes Echoes hold up. It isn’t just trying to recreate their early success. It’s trying to evolve past it.

Production comes from Ross Robinson, which was a strange pairing on paper. This is the same guy who worked with Slipknot, Korn, and Glassjaw. But somehow, he brings a kind of density to the song that gives it weight without crushing its atmosphere. It’s polished, but not clean. There’s still grit underneath. Still tension.

Lyrically, Echoes isn’t spoon-feeding anything. It floats in that dream space — half philosophy, half poetry. It feels like a message half-received through static. But that’s the whole point. You’re not supposed to decode it. You’re supposed to sit with it. Let it drift through you.

The video adds another layer. Shot in a surreal desert landscape that looks like Mars if it was designed by a minimalist, the band moves through the space like travelers who’ve been stuck between worlds for a while. It doesn’t try to explain the song — it just mirrors its mood. Isolated. Wide open. Cold, but not empty.

Echoes was the first single off Surfing the Void, their second album. The project caught people off guard. It wasn’t trying to be a sequel to Myths of the Near Future. That record was neon, fast, and young. This one was weird. Rougher. Sometimes heavier. But Echoes stood out because it still carried a trace of their past — while pointing straight into the void.

Klaxons didn’t play it safe here. They didn’t double down on what already worked. They aimed wider. Stranger. And Echoes was their most complete shot in that direction. No gimmicks. Just sound, space, and something hard to explain — but easy to feel.