Fountain Two
Like any boom, the benefits of the continuing explosion of the domestic music industry have brought wide reaching effects. Pretty much anyone can put a record out these days, pick up coverage from a fairly benign media and find loads of gigs up and down the country.
Phil Udell
Like any boom, the benefits of the continuing explosion of the domestic music industry have brought wide reaching effects. Pretty much anyone can put a record out these days, pick up coverage from a fairly benign media and find loads of gigs up and down the country.
This is largely a good thing. The problem is that, for every Rags, Rulers Of The Planet or Berkley that present themselves, there is a less interesting discovery around the corner.
None of this is meant to be unkind but the truth is that listening to Playtoh’s debut album is not the most inspiring experience in the world. Fountain Two is a solid indie-pop record which, despite Playtoh's tender years, sounds like it could have been made 10 years ago.
The songs are fine, the playing perfectly okay. Yet there is absolutely nothing here to get excited about. It’s the worse kind of album to pass judgement on. There are not enough bad moments to dismiss it out of hand but too few good bits to enthuse over. It just sits there, drab and inert.
Frustratingly, you get the feeling there could be more to Playtoh. Sometimes a darker, more ferocious edge does threaten. But soon it is swamped by an overriding niceness. Ultimately, Playtoh’s difficulty is that the bar has been raised so much of late (particularly by other Cork bands) that, right now at least, they simply don’t make the cut.
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