It means ‘a madness shared by two’ for those curious. This album has undergone the most elaborate internet rumours, election conspiracies, last minute release date delays, not to mention a huge roster of celebrity appearances. But let’s put all that to one side for a moment and try to focus on the album itself.

‘Infinity On High’ was always going to be a difficult album to follow, it demonstrated FOB had grown up from the pop punk roots from which they started, and it would seem that the band have matured even more since. This does mean however, that those still hoping for a revert back to rugged, punk sound of ‘Take This To Your Grave’, the band’s first studio album, will be dissapointed, but this was never really going to happen, let’s be honest. Nope, the punk aspect of FOB is definately no more, with the band making the final transition from pop punk, to simply pop. (Insert remark about how this happened a couple albums ago here.) What we are presented with from Folie À Deux however, is a lively pop album, sometimes bordering on the soulful, sometimes bordering on the funky. It’s interesting. It’s clever. It’s fun.

On first listen, a lot of the tracks can indeed pass you by. But stick with it and you shall indeed be rewarded. Folie À Deux isn’t as instantaneously catchy as previous offerings from the band; the hooks are far more obtuse, but once found are all the more rewarding. Take ‘Headfirst Slide into Coopestown on a Bad Bet’ , a spooky, low key affair, that before you know it has erupted into guitar driven, symphonetic chaos. For FOB, this isn’t just an album for the now, a footnote on their extensive repertoire of records, this one’s for the history books. There’s a far more epic sound to these songs than has existed previously for the band, a sense of unity amongst the entire album, an emo opera. Emo probably being an unfair term, the band having long severed their ties with any ‘emo’ representation; a sense of self awareness being exerted throughout the album, demonstrated with lyrics such as, ‘Nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy.’

As for the album’s composition, it seems that Pete Wentz may have taken a backseat with his intricate and overthought lyrics this time around. Good you may cry. But in fact these lyrics did seem to become embedded with the fundamentals of the FOB album, and it is a little sad to see them go. But it has opened the doorway for lead vocalist Mr. Patrick Stump to take the lead with the production of the album, and a mighty fine job he’s done too. Technically the album is flawless. It’s arguable that there’s an over-reliance on Stump’s voice, but with his already impressive vocal talent only improving, it can be forgiven. As for guest vocals, an unusual synth addition by Lil’ Wayne in Tiffany Blews is topped only by a bizarre country western rendition from Pharell at the end of w.a.m.s, I kid you not. Also feature vocals from Gym Class Heroes’ Travis, Debbie Harry, Elvis Costello and Panic at the Disco’s Brendan, apparently. There is a sense of featuring celebs just to prove that they can, but heck, who wouldn’t.

The band still havn’t quite cracked the formula to create the figurehead album that they’re striving for. But they are certainly getting close. It must be said that this album doesn’t feel as natural as previous FOB albums. The youthful, carefree and energetic songs have been replaced by a sound that sounds very much like it’s been sat down and thought about for a long time in a studio. In fairness the band are hardly youthful and carefree anymore, but the energy is still in abundance. Be it in the form of the pent up fury being expressed in ‘West Coast Smoker’ or the ecstacy of innocence in bouncy piano driven ’20 Dollar Nose Bleed’. To ignore it would be madness.