Music
There are certain times when a record comes along that you're absolutely convinced you have heard before, yet you can't identify precisely when, where or even who it was by. Candidate's new LP is just one of those releases; astonishingly familiar, you cannot even imagine it not having been recorded. It must always have existed on one spiritual plain or another, waiting for the moment when four blokes from London took the time to set it down on tape.
On the other hand though, it could also be because they sound like a combination of so many others who have come before them that to list all the influences would take more time and effort than I have the inclination to put in; as a basic starting point however, it would not be out of place to compare them to Mormon slowcore trio Low. On Prozac. Lots of Prozac. Their melodic folky sound set against the deep and relaxed vocals of Joel Morris is massively reassuring, and the desire to swoon and fall asleep to their heart-warming tales is strong indeed, though they are probably more appropriate to late summer than January. Opening track 'Avalanche' must rank as one of the most charming little songs ever written, clocking in at only just over a minute, whilst album closer 'The Last Days Of The War' is also particularly touching, its lack of drums leaving the vocals to just float over the top of the severe and claustrophobic keyboards in a manner not unlike Elbow's. Mixed in throughout are a wide variety of orchestrations, from the Spiritualized-esque brass of 'This Is The Way' to penny whistles, sleighbells and even a 'Hitachi 28" television box'. Whatever that is.
The fact, though, that they do sound like so many other bands means that while they can be highly touching and cathartic, they do not come across as having a particularly strong identity of their own. It would not take much to convince an unknowing listener that they what they were hearing was David Kitt, or alternatively an unusually high-quality soundtrack to a feel-good romantic comedy. There are moments of invention and interesting orchestrations, but the pervading feeling is one of well-trodden paths being given a tiny tweak here and a slight adjustment there, whilst making sure that they do not attempt to do anything too revolutionary. It's all very well having moments when you sound like Bowie's early space folk, or even occasionally Gomez, but without the brief moments of inspiration and originality you never feel that there is really anything to connect with. Tiger Flies is all highly competent, at times outstanding, but there is just not quite enough individuality or character stamped across it to make it truly special.
So, you think you know what Garbage sound like? 'Cherry Lips', the second single from the beautifulgarbage album, defies every expectation, and sounds, well, not unlike a certain petite Antipodean pop princess. In fact, scrap "not unlike", this is exactly like Kylie, even down to the hook in the chorus that sticks in your head for days and days until you want to beat yourself to death with the CD case just to get that DAMN SONG OUT. But go on, admit it, you liked 'Can't Get You Out Of My Head', didn't you, until it invaded your mind and started killing off your brain cells one by one until all you could hear was the "la, la, la, la-la la la la" of dementia and the little voices telling you to play it again, and that's what Garbage are doing now, and somebody please help. Anyhow, once you've wrenched the twisted urge to stick the single on repeat for EVER out of your subconscious, there are B-sides here too. One is a remix and can therefore safely be ignored, and the other is old-skool Garbage, and, er, actually it's a bit dull, and maybe it's time to put 'Cherry Lips' on again and listen to it a few more times because it's just so catchy.
One sort of gets the feeling that this is the song Tom and Ed have been trying to avoid making for so many years. If Surrender, their last album, was everything that was right with techno - never formulaic, danceable, progressive, yet still not shy on emotions - then 'Star Guitar' is everything Surrender was not. On the new single from Manchester's other favourite sons, every page from the "How to go through the motions and fall short of your potential" cookbook is referenced and followed to letter of the law. It is the sound of two masters of their trade showing just how effortlessly they can make something that is still easily ahead of the competition, yet just as easily short of former brilliance. Admittedly it is a delicate balance in dance music, between progressing enough to stay interesting while still maintaining the mindless dance beat. Still, it is frustrating to see a band who walked the tightrope so carefully before, not even take a step forward this time around.
Remember Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey? Remember the bit where the two guys step through that time machine thing and turn into a "grown up" band? Now imagine that very same thing happening to Blink 182 or Sum 41 and hey, look everybody, it's Jimmy Eat World! Here, the sage old men to Blink's cheeky young rascals are back to tell us "don't write yourself off just yet... everything will be just fine." Happy vibes abound and it's all very uplifting. Cheers guys.
Ok, so musically this is nothing spectacular (I counted five different chords at most) and it's not going to win any song of the year awards. Hell, it's probably not even the best song I've heard this week, but it definitely is perfect single material, and just the kind of thing which should help Jimmy Eat World carry on up that ladder of success. Just check out those credentials - it's refreshing, infuriatingly catchy and bouncier than a topless special of Baywatch. In fact, I defy you to dislike this track; "punk-pop" at its not-exactly-brilliant-but-pretty-decent-nonetheless best and well worth two minutes and fourty-five seconds of anybody's time. Most excellent indeed.
24th Jan 2002