Marketable yet quirky, the next in a long and forgettable line of performers, young kids sold a template of tender genius; the ‘troubled songwriter’ gimmick. This was how Florence + The Machine and their debut album, ‘Lungs’ first comes across. A shiny new ‘Hounds of Love’ for the 21st century, released on a respected ‘independent’ record label. However, Florence + The Machine are not deserving of being subjected to such ruthless categorisation. Have we truly become so cynical that music’s redemptive magic has simply atrophied and dropped off? Doesn’t anybody have an honest opinion any more? So let’s be honest. We at least owe Florence Welch that; because if nothing else, her lyrics are honest. ‘Lungs’ documents a turbulent (though temporary) break-up with Welch’s boyfriend. And for all that this might be standard pop lyric material, a touch of the macabre is injected into the Kate Bush-tinged ultrapop with lyrics like ‘Kiss With A Fist’s ‘you broke my leg with your touch/ sit back and watch the bed burn.’ It’s this dark streak of honesty that transforms ‘Lungs’ from what might have been a catchy (though emotionally sterile) ‘indie pop-rock’ album into something of substance.
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