Blonde Up
Stereophonics - Word Gets Around | G.U.N. - 0141 623 6326
 TWA Records |
Debut albums eh? Do they ever come soon enough? For fans of Sydney's Mr. Blonde, the answer is of course, no. First promised about a year ago, Blow Up gets the coverted "over delayed album of the year award", just behind the tardy Earthmen with Love Walked In. Still why be bitter when the wait has produced this wonderfully consistent, hook laden gem. Previous converts to Mr. Blonde's punkish pop riffery are well catered for with live favourites such as 'Sex Industry Worker', 'Waiting on the 389', 'X-ray Eyes' and mid-tempo anthems 'Okay Alright' and 'Heaven' dispersed throughout the albums generous 13 tracks. Refreshingly Mr. Blonde vary this approach with a couple of poignant ballads (Kisses in the Snow, Mascara), bluesy jams ('Saw You Standing There') and sprinkles of Dunneiden quirkiness ('Kilty Blue', 'Nervous'). Wisely they haven't forgotten previous EPs either, with the Triple J adored Sunday (and despite the overkill still a magic song), Saturday nite and Supergirl being reworked, and as a nice bonus, a hidden dancey sample-a-thon number, which doesn't seem like an aberration in the slightest. Blow Up then, is an up yours to the critics and public who wrote them off
as derivative, big mouths of the Australian music scene. With this effort the blonde boys
and more specificily singer/songwriter Ken Stewart, show both the art of how to write
criminally catchy guitar rock/pop and also how to push it's boundaries. - Caleb |
Stereophonics - Word Gets
Around |
|||
They do say that appearances can be deceiving , and this little beauty certainly adds credence to the popular precept. For, to the uninformed music store excursionist, this rather misnomic, poorly packaged piece, could quite easily rub idiomatic shoulders with the pub rock proponents. I myself thought so until I had the pleasure of getting aquainted with the simple, yet highly agreeable sound of My Drug Hell. They are a band that opt for 'no digital shite', relying instead on 4 and 8 track recording equipment, a move which is heavily reflected within their music. Yet, instead of sounding limp and underproduced, it adds a certain charm and authenticity to the retro orientation that characterises this album. This retro orientation also constitutes a gamble the band have taken with 'This is My Drug Hell', for many bands have looked to the past and replicated, and paid heavily for their actions. My Drug Hell though, have maintained the right balence, sounding enough like themselves to avoid coming across as a vacuous derivative pastiche. Tracks worthy of considerable merit include the hazy 'Girl at the Bus Stop' and the refined 'Jinx's Hole'. Well worth a capital investment. - Wayne
|
There has been some fine cultural output eminating from Wales over the last couple of years. It kind of makes up for years of stereotyping along the lines of Neil Kinnock - leeks and towns with names that contain a preponderence of letters. The latest in this fresh heritage are Stereophonics, a strong three piece that deserve nothing less than irreverence. This mightily impressive long player debut, peddles a diversity ranging from jaunty celebrations of a stoical existence (Last of the Big Time Drinkers) to haunting vignettes of provincial life (Local Boy in the Photograph and Billy Davey's daughter).
|
The sound of 'Word Gets Around' is liberally dosed with a robust
and frenetic energy, whilst also displaying a mature sense of melencholy and pathos. Yet
it is the bands ability to tell a story, to capture a moment, that is their most
impressive attribute. Parochial life has not been so keenly and accurately portrayed, as
in 'Word Gets Around', for ages. - 
G.U.N. - 0141
623 6326 |
|
I
remember Gun from their hard rockin', soft permed past, and so with much scepticism I
accepted their latest 'new direction' material. The piece starts reasonably well, with
'rescue you', a buoyant little pop tune. yet, my initial wariness was soon confirmed as
0141 623 6326 quickly bellyflops into shitsville, the bright nascent spark of poppy
delight thwarted under the heavy weight of lacklustre drivel. Listening to this album is
like listening to a sort of hybrid of the crap bits or low points from your record
collection, you know, the filler fluff you unashamedly skip. 'Seventeen' and 'My Sweet
Jane' are so inexcusedly dreary and uninspiring that words just escape me. As the album
proceeds to its denouement, the sound seems to take on an unhealthy similarity to the
middle of the road rubbish that saturated the charts towards the end of the 80's and
beginning of the 90's (Prefab Sprout or Roxette for instance). It only seems natural that
0141 632 6326's current resting place appears to be in every second hand record dealers
'recently arrived' bin. it's only time before it will be in the bargin one. - Wayne
|
|
Back to
Current Reviews
Current Singles | Index of all Reviews
Design, layout and content � 1996-97 Chester.
front | about | feedback
| view guest | music column | articles | interviews | reviews | links