The Blizzards - Domino Effect

I feel like I’ve just been assaulted. I was never one to categorize music into groups – girls and blokes, but I’ve changed my mind. No, not boys - BLOKES. The Blizzards is a blokes band. Music to head-butt to. Songs that even the most wasted little skinhead can song along to without too much difficulty. I’m telling you this band makes Kid British sound like Radiohead.

Already a huge success in their homeland Ireland (who really should know better) The Blizzards' second album Domino Effect begins inoffensively enough with the track ‘Buy It Sell It’, a catchy little tune that keeps up the pace with a cool staccato guitar riff that edges it along nicely. Then it's the frankly awful ‘Trust Me I’m A Doctor’ which starts off with “I love my friends cos they have no standards, morals or ethics” and goes straight downhill from there. This is a lovely song about travelling to a “foreign country” (Spain or Greece no doubt), lying to some poor girl; “trust me, I’m a doctor”, getting laid and then “she’ll just disappear, no one gets hurt and we all have a nice time.” Wonderful.

‘Money Doesn’t Buy You Class’ is what happens when you try to hit on a girl way out of your league and she pisses you off by using words of more than three syllables. Starting off with an annoying Huck Finn harmonica intro, the protagonist tells off the posh girl for thinking she is too good for the likes of him (she is); “you were losing balance so I gave you my hand, and there is so much about gravity that we don’t understand.” Fortunately our hero strikes it lucky in the next song ‘Fantasy’; “my girlfriend, she doesn’t know a thing. Pure ignorance, it’s such a beautiful thing.”

‘Three Cheers For Modern Medicine’ stomps along with the finesse of steeled-toed Docs, and ‘The Reason’ is a clumsy attempt at edgy, dark sensuality, ripe with such sterling lyrical poetry as “the reason why I want you is the reason that you don’t want me. And the reason why I adore you is the reason that you don’t adore me.” Thom Yorke must be kicking himself.

‘Postcards’ is a bit of a departure and actually not too bad. Melodic and almost sincere, this is what the band could be if they weren’t trying so hard to sound like misogynist neanderthals: “I touch your shaking hands, but it just doesn’t make a difference…I’m still here, I’m the light that you are running to…” Unfortunately this is just a fluke and we’re back to “music to swill beer to”. ‘The Domino Effect’, ‘Miss Fantasia Preaches’ and ‘Silence Is Violence’ are vacuous terrace anthems, and ‘Trouble’, the final song, may pose the greatest challenge for the listener as he will actually have to know how to spell; “she’s trouble, she’s trouble she’s T-R-O-U-B-L-E!”

Even if you could forget the badder-than-bad lyrics, the woefully uninspiring music just makes this whole album a jarring, clanging, annoying mess. So forget this band and go stick on some Oasis instead, that should do the trick.



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