Alfonzo – Blind As Faith

There was a time in music when to show public contempt for religion was considered the height of social irreverence, something only the truly audacious artists would dare; The Beatles’ claim that they were bigger than Jesus probably did more for their PR than any of Lennon’s ‘artsy’ album covers, the Altamont riots kick-started over the opening chords to the Stones’ ‘Sympathy For The Devil’ and let’s not forget Alan Partridge’s reference to Sinead, “bald chap who ripped up a picture of the Pope” O’Connor.  However, now amongst the litter of teeny-bopping devil horns and faux gothic-inspired crucifix poses, it would probably be deemed more alternative to write a pro-God song; somewhere, an alt. rock Cliff Richard revival is looming…

Jumping on an already over-crowded bandwagon, Scottish rockers Alfonzo channel the shopping list ranting of Dylan’s ‘Subterranean Homesick Blues’ over a jaunty rockabilly riff, as the lead singer spits venomously facetious lines about soldiers fighting for ‘Queen and country’ for when, “God decides to care.”  An intermittent tinkling blues piano keeps the mood light and hints that although these God-bashing boys are invoking the Almighty, they are clearly not taking themselves too seriously.  A blistering solo after the middle-eight completes what is essentially four minutes of fun, frolics and frivolity at the expense of the big guy upstairs; yet somehow it is doubtful that He will banish them to Hell for their musical sins, as it is clear that their tongues are firmly placed in their cheeks…they will probably just spend eternity in purgatory as Cliff Richard’s backing band.

David Harfield

(http://www.roomthirteen.com/cd_reviews/10336/Alfonzo__Blind_As_Faith.html)

Nigel Of Bermondsey - This Is How It Feels

Mention the name ‘Inspiral Carpets’ to the majority of Britain’s population and they will either tell you that it is a household furnishings business that has recently gone into administration or mumble something about, “the band that Noel Gallagher was a roadie for before he became Oasis…?”  The latter would be correct, as Inspiral Carpets were indeed the pre-Britpop indie band that offered the elder Gallagher a taste of the rock and roll lifestyle that he would later gorge upon by allowing him to set up their equipment before gigs.

In addition to having one of the most famous British singer-songwriters of the last two decades as a dogsbody, they also managed to write a few songs that have stood the test of time, including ‘This Is How It Feels’.  A synth-drenched melancholic tale of the kitchen sink variety, the song’s morbid refrain of, “Husband don’t know what he’s done, kids don’t know what’s wrong with mum” encapsulated the mood of Thatcher’s council estate Britain.

Seeing as the political state of the country seems to have come full circle since the band’s 1990 heyday, with a visionary Prime Minister leaving their successor to pick up the pieces of their shattered economy, it only seems fitting for London based singer-songwriter Nigel Hoyle to cover Inspiral Carpets’s torch song.  The indie-pop song is given an acoustic makeover, with some sampled harmonies thrown in to the chorus and a genuinely innovative guitar solo inserted into the middle-eight.  More of a memory-jogger than an actual ‘make the song your own’ cover, NOB’s (unfortunate initials) version of ‘This Is How It Feels’ does the song justice and will easily fit into anyone’s ‘gentle acoustic 90′s revivalist pop’ playlist.

On the song’s B-side ‘Something’s On Fire’, Nigel drops the mockney or (mock-mondsey?!) accent to chant melodically over the gentle stabs of synthesiser and strummed acoustic guitar, in an innocuous paean to passed love.  The lyrics see a ‘burning’ analogy for love become slightly overdone, (ouch!) but a gentle production value allows the words to simply sail around the mix, becoming yet another pleasant sound in the calm maelstrom of music.

As anyone who has studied GCSE History will know that, ‘those who cannot learn from history are condemned to repeat it’; maybe after Brown does his ‘Major’ slot, the country will see a new upstart from the Labour party promise to make Britain cool again; doubtless NOB will be commissioned to render a piano version of ‘Cigarettes and Alcohol’, yet the real clincher will be whether Inspiral Carpets’ old roadie turns up to the opening party?

David Harfield

(http://www.roomthirteen.com/cgi-bin/cd_view.cgi?CDID=10156)

Funeral For A Friend – Rules and Games

In the cruel and unusual world of rock music, a direct positive correlation can often be seen between a band’s sound becoming more accessible and the commercial success that they achieve; witness the heavily distorted bedroom-whining of Fall Out Boy’s first EP and album to the universally poptastic nature of their more recent offerings and the fame, fortune and infamy that has followed.  Not so with Welsh screamo ‘kidults’ Funeral For a Friend, whose 2003 debut album, Casually Dressed and Deep in Conversation garnered them not only critical acclaim but a veritable legion of tortured teen fans, who had found acceptance within a scene defined by floppy fringes and poetic screeching.  Their sophomore album found the band focusing more heavily on melody, structure and decipherable lyrics, yet despite containing stronger material than their debut, Hours received mixed reactions from the fans who clearly desired another blood and ink scream-fest.  Following this, the band found themselves crucified by the FFAF ‘purists’ for the pop sheen of third album Tales Don’t Tell Themselves, yet still not achieving that mainstream-sales crossover that such a move often accrues.  

Perhaps realising that selling out no longer means selling more, FFAF have gone back to basics with a no nonsense emo-rock single taken from their latest album Memory and Humanity.  They employ all the tactics that made their debut such a success, including doubled-up screaming on opening verse lines and syncopating a lead guitar line with the chorus’s vocal melody, creating that instantly hummable, raw anthemic quality that will appease fans, both old and new.  The middle-eight is catchy, if a little predictable; lead singer Matt Davies screaming “Stay with me!” over a barrage of stuttering power chords is perhaps a plea to the teen fans that have grown up and apart from the band, shedding their teen angst in favour of day jobs, premature baldness and who are probably all tapping their feet to the latest Pete Wentz/Jay-Z collaboration by now anyway.

David Harfield

(http://www.roomthirteen.com/cd_reviews/9894/Funeral_For_A_Friend__Rules_and_Games.html)

Attic Lights – I Could Be So Good For You

Matt Lucas and David Walliams have a lot to answer for. By unleashing Vicky Pollard upon the nation, they inadvertently created an entire sub-culture of young women who boast, with no trace of irony, of being the character incarnate.  Their cross-dressing, mentally unhinged characters have provided drunken students with the resounding catch phrases, “I’m a laayyyddeee!” and “Ahuhhuhh!” which get funnier each time they are slurred.  Oh, and they also created the blueprint for Catherine Tate’s entire career.

In addition to these cardinal sins, Little Britain has also rendered it impossible to listen to Attic Lights’ update of the classic Minder soundtrack I Could Be So Good For You without collapsing into paroxysms of laughter at the memory of the Dennis Waterman sketches, in which the diminutive actor asks his agent for a TV gig that allows him to, “write the feem toon, sing the feem toon…”

If the listener wasn’t deafened by their own laughter, then they would hear that the jaunty old piano power ballad has been given a pop-rock overhaul, with inventive guitar riffs inserted at appropriate intervals, tighter harmonies than the original and a magnificently ridiculous ‘phaser’ solo all delivered in a frenzied and frivolous fashion.  Recorded for the new series of Minder currently screening on Channel 5, this version improves upon the original and then some.

Luckily the Glaswegian pop quintet include a B-side which does not invoke such guffawing; Late Night Sunshine is a lazy sunshine-stomper that has vocal harmonies redolent of Teenage Fanclub and sports a glorious chorus complete with faux-American accents that somehow manage not to sound contrived.

Both songs sit equally alongside each other in the category of good old Friday night fun; now, it’s a sure bet that Attic Lights would rather be critically acclaimed for their own compositions rather than revamping classic TV theme tunes, yet it’s comforting to know that they have a fall-back plan if Happy Days ever comes a-calling.

David Harfield

(http://www.roomthirteen.com/cd_reviews/9762/Attic_Lights__I_Could_Be_So_G.html)