Another contender for the New York, New Wave, Neanderthal crown arrives in town, can they live up to the hype? A glance at the album sleeve isn’t promising as the band shot looks like a Footlights revue trying to parody a band with New Yawk Atitooood. Imagine Blondie without the crucial blond bird and you’ll get the idea.
Musically they tick all the right 80’s boxes, although they throw so much into the melting pot that the end result is a rather odd concoction which sounds like nothing so much as a young Elvis Costello fronting up the Tattoo You era Stones, even down to the occasional camp falsetto punctuation of songs. There’s a wee bit too much of a soulless white-boy funk element to the album although I’m thinking more latter day RHCP than the rather damning comparison to Jamiroquai meted out in this week’s Music Fix singles review.
One gets the feeling that there isn’t a great deal going on upstairs with this band though and, in respect of the vapid, vacuous lyrical content, the Duran Duran comparisons are possibly justified. They can probably fill a dancefloor without breaking too much of a sweat but, mercy, this band has nothing to say. I mean, check out the song titles She’s Expensive, or maybe Rich Girls or even Hey, Hey Girl for all you need to know about where this band is at. They make Guns n Roses appear to be rather bookish and arcane in their lyrical matter.
This may appear to be damning but there’s nothing wrong with some dumb fun, maybe that’s what the world needs just now to pull us through the drudgery of financial meltdown. This is the time for the bright young things (ok, maybe not so bright) to act out lives of debauched, hollow, excess to distract us from our misery. Maybe I’m over romanticising their potential but, Jesus, look around you – who else is going to give us a fix?