Over the past six months Delorentos have found themselves in the not entirely enviable position of being tipped as the next big thing before they’d released a single note of music. Thus their debut EP finally arrives with great expectations. Fortunately, it’s a case of happy endings all round as the Dublin four piece pass their first test with flying colours. Indeed, you’d be hard pressed to recognise this as anything but the work of a band at the top of their game. Every aspect exudes pure confidence. The only possible worry, in fact, is that, with its twisted guitar riffs and awkward beats, they could find themselves tied a little too closely to the whole Franz / Bloc / Futureheads thing. Some lead, most follow and Delorentos are heading for the front.
If there was a worry that ‘Thou Shalt Always Kill’ was a glorious flash in the pan, then ‘The Beat That My Heart Skipped’ is equally glorious proof that the London duo might just be the real deal. Less consciously preachy than their debut, it adds a welcome personal angle to their sound before moving up a gear for the rant-filled, closing moments. With as much in common with US underground rappers such as Sage Francis and Atmosphere as the stuttering UK scene, this odd pairing could well be the surprise find of the year.
The big problem with The Hives is that, right from the start, they painted themselves into a corner with their outfits, attitude and two-dimensional garage rock. Actually, an ever bigger problem is that they’re not very good, but that’s an argument for another day. ‘Tick Tick Boom’ is essentially more of the same: all right, but nowhere near as good as ‘Hate To Say I Told You So’, a debut that they look more and more unlikely to match.
Like Scroobius Pip, Kate Nash’s none-more-London vocals are open to ridicule, but she has so far proved to be quite the charmer. What is most astonishing is how well her songs (previously lo-fi in the extreme) have translated into big, bold pop tunes. ‘Mouthwash’ is easily the equal of ‘Foundations’, its joyful melody helping obscure the limited subject matter. The speed with which she has been thrust into the glare of the public eye might be a concern, but let’s hope Nash can cope with it all.
If being a member of The Clash is enough to ensure one’s reputation for life, then Mick Jones more than any of them – even Strummer – has refused to rest on his laurels. As well as producing The Libertines, the past four years have seen him work alongside Tony James (Generation X, er.. Sigue Sigue Sputnik) in Carbon/Silicon. The terrible, literal, cover aside, it’s pretty good punk-pop, the sound of two men in their fifties who know that youthful posturing is beneath them yet still refuse to grow old.
Half a New Yorker, half a Dubliner, Alien Envoy somehow manages to combine the worst of both cities. As with his previous ‘Cast Adrift’ single, ‘45’ sits on the wrong side of too clever by half, an ode to the great singles of our age made up entirely of said singles’ titles. Awfully clever it may be, a particularly good song it isn’t.
Scott Maher is making a similar move, although ‘Shine’ suggests that his music has already packed its bags and caught the first flight out. For all its attention to melody and hooks, it’s an oddly jarring experience, as if someone has failed to assemble the song in quite the right order.
Despite releasing a perfectly fine album last year, PB&J seem set to find themselves overshadowed by this one, seemingly omnipresent, song. Reissuing it seems almost an act of resignation - and anyway, given the new dawn of downloading, how relevant can such an act be? Great tune, though.
The name may not ring a huge number of bells, yet Fiona Melady has been something of an Irish musical mainstay over recent years, first as a member of Turn and then through her work with Gemma Hayes, Paddy Casey and Declan O’Rourke. Of them all, ‘One’ is probably most reminiscent of Hayes, especially in the vocal department. As accomplished as you’d expect, Melady still needs to find more of an original angle.
In Dublin’s Nine IX Lives, we have that rarest of things – a convincing Irish rock band. Although they nail their colours firmly to the punk-pop mast, there’s a definite metal edge at work here, right from the opening riffs and their early Iron Maiden feel. It’s not perfect by any means (the production needs to be meatier and at six tracks they’re stretching their material a bit) but this is hugely encouraging stuff.
Having spent 10 years being beaten with a big stick marked ‘press’, Stereophonics found themselves in the rather strange position of being quite liked a couple of years ago, as they hinted at bringing a modern edge to their classic rock sound. Unfortunately, Kelly Jones has turned on his heels and retreated. ‘It Means Nothing’ is a big-hearted ballad that isn’t the most heinous thing out there, but doesn’t exactly set the world alight either. Business as usual then.
Vaguely punky in appearance, playing that surf festival thing, releasing her album exclusively on a mobile phone – if you hadn’t heard Majella Murphy, you’d guess that her music was pretty cutting edge. Well, nice it may be, but cutting edge it certainly isn’t. ‘Baby’s Broken Heart’ is immaculately presented and produced, but otherwise is a fairly standard singer-songwriter workout.
