Now based in London, Lawrence Arabia – aka James Milne – has brought a boatload of indie cred over with him from his native Kiwiland. As well as being a former member of The Brunettes and The Ruby Suns, Milne also penned the score for geek love comedy ‘Eagle vs Shark’ and has spent much of last year touring round Europe with Feist. So you might expect good things from ‘Chant Darling’, the follow-up to eponymous debut album ‘Lawrence Arabia’. Rather anti-climactically, you’d be spot on, although it may take a few listens before ‘Chant Darling’ sinks its sugary hooks into you. Nods toward The Beatles, The Kinks and Beach Boys are inevitable, but it’s all viewed through a distinctly contemporary indie lens – a good example being opening track ‘Look Like a Fool’, a lush, swooping song. There are a few potential stumbling blocks, luckily though the wheat outweighs the chaff by a healthy margin; personal favourites include ‘The Beautiful Young Crew’, a catchy dissection of scene kids and hipsters; ‘I’ve Smoked Too Much’, a country-tinged tune whose lyrics sport a Belle & Sebastian vibe; and the sweetly serrated ‘Fine Old Friends’. Lawrence Arabia is proof that ‘Lord of the Rings’ isn’t the only good thing to come out of New Zealand, whatever the Aussies might say.
Going against the grain of traditional childhood games, Stanley Brinks delivers this piece of intriguingly described “cowboy-indie”. And, it isn’t as unnerving a prospect as it may initially seem. But any trace of the cowboy influen
If Shabby Rogue were really Secret Agents, they’d be in trouble for telling us about it, but on the showing of this wonderfully bizarre single, they’d have my protection if they were. Maybe it’s the energetic pace of the song that could easily qualify as it’s own dance if put to movement, or maybe it’s the songs relative brevity that makes it so listenable in the end. But there is definitely inspiration present in the mix as the suitably spy-moviesque melodies mix up with the lyrics that were apparently inspired by a drug addled period of paranoia according to singer Shaun Litton, who channels every bit of his nervous energy into making this song the paranoid surf rock spy tune that it is. The remarkable thing about ‘My Life As A Secret Agent’ is that it quite literally tells a story that isn’t pretty, remarkable or even that interesting in these modern times and yet the listener feels a sense of edgy artistry that transcends the events that inspired it. And it all makes good of the anxiety, paranoia and drug abuse that caused it in the first place. Nothing new in rock, but something we don’t hear much of these days.
While the first song revealed off the album “Give Blood” was a fuzzed out garage rock workout, the second to debut, “Smiling Black Faces” is a soulful and building piece of gospel infused guitar rock with Malone offering up some truly remarkable lyrical imagery, referencing “bodies strung like tanning hides” and the headline-grabbing murder of Sean Bell by off-duty New York police. Malone says the freedom of writing on his own allowed him to venture further. “If I’m writing with a group of people or another person, even if I wrote the song, I know it may be attributed to someone else,” he says. “It’s reflective of something more than yourself, so I may touch on something more politely. But there’s a different freedom that comes with doing something by yourself, and I think this album reflects that.”
You can see what fourpiece Sam And Me were going for with their debut album. Floaty melodic pop. Soulful reflective love songs. You Simon; me Garfunkel. And in places it works: ‘Sonic Boomerang’ sports cheery video game samples, ‘A Lying, Down Disposition’ is liltingly catchy, ‘Cloud Sounds’ has a disarming music box quality; ‘If I Fall, Can I?’ pokes its elfin little nose into the post-rock garden. ‘But Dave, you devilishly handsome young music critic,’ I hear you say. ‘If there’s so much to like, why the snarky tone?’ Well, the trouble is that ‘The Battle of Hemsby’ is less than the sum of its parts. Sure there are some sparkling moments, but the songs as a whole blend into one gooey indie mush; it’s like being gently smothered under a lorry load of marshmallow twists. If the lyrics were better I’d cut the tunes some slack, but while Sam And Me set out for a picnic at Lovable Wistfulness, they end up eating their sandwiches in a rubbish-strewn lay-by somewhere between Clumsy and Po-faced. “Around the day in 80 worlds”; “I’m sick and tired of always feeling tired and sick”; “Does working for The Man mean that much to everyone?” Honestly guys, until you start writing better lines I wouldn’t have them printed in the sleeve notes – it’s just handing ammunition to evil bastards like myself and begging to be shot. But if I’m being said E.B. it’s not because Sam And Me are just no good, it’s that they’ve got the potential to be so much more interesting. An extra sprinkling of standout moments, a thicker slice of oomph and ‘The Battle of Hemsby’ could have been a seriously fun album full of summery pop goodness. As it is, the album’s like candy floss from the faded seaside resort it references – sweet, soft and disappointingly insubstantial.
